He  spoke  to  them  of  the  vanity  of  life,”  98- 


The  Emperor  Marcus 
Aurelius 

A STUDY  IN  IDEALS 


BY 

JOHN  C.  JOY,  SJ. 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 


B.  HERDER 

T7  SOUTH  BROADWAY,  ST.  LOUIS,  MO- 
CATHOLIC  TRUTH  SOCIETY  OF  IRELAND 

24  UPPER  O'CONNELL  STREET,  DUBLIN 

1913 


20621 


Printed  by  Browne  and  Nolan,  Ltd.,  Dublin. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

Pbbludb  ..... 

1 

CHAPTER  II 

The  Boy  Stoic  .... 

11 

CHAPTER  III 

A Philosophbe  on  the  Throne 

. 30 

CHAPTER  IV 

Life  in  the  Palace 

44 

CHAPTER  V 

On  the  Danube  .... 

66 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  Book  of  Meditations 

68 

CHAPTER  VII 

:.»AST  Days  in  Rome 

8] 

CHAPTER  VIII 

‘ The  End  of  the  Old  World  ’*  . 

96 

CHAPTER  IX 

'he  Martyrs  of  Christ  . 

. 106 

CHAPTER  X 

HE  Pagan  1 Kempis 


128 


Even  in  a palace,  life  may  be  led  well ! 

So  spake  the  imperial  sage,  purest  of  men, 
Marcus  Aurelius,  But  the  stifling  den 
Of  common  life,  where,  crowded  up  pell-mell. 

Our  freedom  for  a little  bread  we  sell,  | 

And  drudge  under  some  foolish  master's  ken  \ 
Who  rates  us  if  we  peer  outside  our  pen — 
Matched  with  a palace,  is  not  this  a hell? 

Even  in  a palace!  On  his  truth  sincere 
Who  spake  these  words,  no  shadow  ever  came 
And  when  my  ill-schooled  spirit  is  aflame 

Some  nobler,  ampler  stage  of  life  to  win. 

I'll  stop  and  say,  “ There  were  no  succour  here, 
The  aids  to  noble  life  are  all  within," 

Matthew  Arnold. 


The  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius 


CHAPTER  I 

PRELUDE 

“ Marcus  Aurelius  is  perhaps  the  most 
beautiful  figure  in  history.  He  is  one  of 
those  consoling  and  hope-inspiring  marks 
which  stand  for  ever  to  remind  our  weak 
and  easily  discouraged  race  how  high 
human  goodness  and  perseverance  have 
once  been  carried  and  may  be  carried  again. 
The  interest  of  mankind  is  peculiarly 
attracted  by  examples  of  signal  goodness 
in  high  places ; for  that  testimony  to  the 
worth  of  goodness  is  the  most  striking  which 
is  borne  by  those  to  whom  all  the  means  of 
pleasure  and  self-indulgence  lay  open,  by 
those  who  had  at  their  command  the  king- 
doms of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them. 
Marcus  Aurelius  was  the  ruler  of  the  grandest 
of  Empires  and  he  was  one  of  the  best  of 
men.  Besides  him  history  presents  one 
or  two  other  sovereigns  eminent  for  their 
goodness,  such  as  Saint  Louis  and  Alfred. 
But  Marcus  Aurelius  has  for  us  Moderns 
2 


2 THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

this  great  superiority  of  interest  over  Saint 
Louis  or  Alfred,  that  he  lived  and  acted  in 
a state  of  society  modern  by  its  essential 
characteristics,  in  an  epoch  akin  to  our  own, 
in  a brilliant  centre  of  civilisation.  Trajan 
talks  of  ‘ our  enlightened  age  ’ just  as 
glibly  as  The  Times  talks  of  it.  Marcus 
Aurelius  thus  becomes  for  us  a man  like 
ourselves,  a man  in  all  things  tempted  as 
we  are.  Saint  Louis  inhabits  an  atmo- 
sphere of  medieval  Catholicism  which  the 
man  of  the  nineteenth  century  may  admire, 
indeed,  and  passionately  wish  to  inhabit, 
but  which,  strive  as  he  will,  he  cannot 
really  inhabit.  Alfred  belongs  to  a state 
of  society  half  barbarous.  Neither  Alfred 
nor  Saint  Louis  can  be  morally  and  intellec- 
tually as  near  to  us  as  Marcus  Aurelius.” 

These  are  the  words  of  a writer  in  the 
highest  degree  representative  of  modern 
thought — Matthew  Arnold.  As  such  they 
will  serve  as  a text  for  this  study,  and,  I 
hope,  as  a justification  for  including  it 
amongst  the  publications  of  the  Catholic 
Truth  Society.  They  will  be  a text  since 
they  touch  on  the  points  of  greatest  interest 
in  the  life  of  Marcus  Aurelius ; his  high 
natural  ideals ; his  fidelity  in  great  part  to 
those  ideals ; the  contrast  thus  presented 
between  him  and  his  surroundings.  This 
quotation  from  such  a writer  will  also 


PRELUDE 


8 


perhaps  justify  the  appearance  of  this  study 
in  the  good  company  of  the  C.T.S.  cata- 
logue, since  it  proves  the  interest  which  this 
pagan  Emperor  of  Rome  has  for  the  men 
of  our  own  time,  whatever  their  opinions. 
For  Christians  there  is  the  additional  interest 
afforded  by  the  contrast  between  his  ideals 
and  those  of  the  martyrs — ^the  ideals  of 
nature  and  those  of  grace.  Incidentally,  a 
study  of  his  life  and  age  shows,  as  Mr.  F. 
H.  Myers  well  points  out,  how  futile  are  the 
neo-pagan  theories,  so  much  in  fashion  in 
our  own  times,  of  the  self-sufficiency  of 
nature  ; and  also,  as  Mr.  Myers  does  not 
point  out,  how  essential  for  heroic  virtue  is 
the  indwelling  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  the 
supernatural  aid  of  grace. 

The  life  of  Marcus  Aurelius  has  had  a 
fascination  for  those  in  all  ages  who  are 
interested  in  the  strivings  of  human  nature 
after  the  ideal — and  these  are,  I suppose, 
most  men  of  culture  {humani  the  Romans 
rightly  called  them).  The  early  Christians 
took  the  same  interest  in  him  which  they 
took  in  all  the  nobler  pagans,  in  Plato  and 
in  Socrates,  in  Vergil,  Seneca,  and  Epictetus ; 
they  praised  his  virtue  and  found  in  it  a 
spur  to  higher  things.  If  unregenerate 
nature  could  do  so  much,  how  ought  not  the 
regenerate  blush  for  their  tepidity  ? This 
was  the  sentiment  also  of  that  Cardinal 


4 THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

Barberini  who  translated  the  Meditations 
which  Marcus  has  left  us.  He  dedicated 
the  translation  to  his  own  soul  “ in  order 
to  make  it  redder  than  his  purple  at  the 
sight  of  the  virtues  of  this  gentile.”  Mar- 
cus’ contemporaries  of  all  shades  of  opinion 
— Christians  no  less  than  pagans — bore 
testimony  to  the  integrity  of  his  life  and,  on 
the  whole,  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  his 
rule.  Long  after  his  death  his  bust  might 
be  found  amongst  the  household  gods  all 
over  the  Empire.  In  our  own  age  when  men 
are  losing  hold  of  the  supernatural  and  trying 
to  live  without  it,  the  high  attainments  of 
a mere  pagan  are  held  up  for  admiration. 
Dilettanti  are  in  love  with  a moral  code 
which  brings  with  it  no  shocking  sanctions  ; 
a generation  sick  unto  death  with  scepticism 
seeks  peace  in  an  undogmatic  philosophy  of 
life  : but  it  is  all  oil  and  no  wine ; therefore 
it  heals  not. 

Yet  honour  where  honour  is  due ; we 
have  no  wish  to  detract  from  the  greatness 
of  the  good  Emperor — a greatness  which  is 
only  realised  by  contrast  with  the  surround- 
ings in  which  he  lived. 

Rome,  when  Marcus  came  to  rule  over  it, 
was  the  centre  of  a vast  Empire  and  no 
capital  has  ever  surpassed  it  in  immorality. 
It  had  all  the  viciousness  of  Paris  without 
its  grace,  the  gross  materialism  of  London 


PEELUDE 


5 


enhanced  by  a system  of  slavery  which 
brutalised  master  as  well  as  slave,  and  all 
this  joined  to  the  superstition  of  Pekin.  It 
had  not  improved,  but  rather  the  reverse, 
since  St.  Paul  saw  it  delivered  over  to  a 
reprobate  sense.  It  was  the  spoiled  child 
of  its  Empire.  All  Europe  exeept  Germany 
and  Russia  owned  its  sway  and  ministered 
to  its  desires ; so  did  Asia  Minor  and  Syria 
as  far  East  as  the  Euphrates ; so  too  did 
Egypt  and  the  whole  northern  part  of 
Africa.  The  wealth  of  all  these  provinces 
was  borne  by  fleets  of  merchantmen  to  its 
port  of  Ostia ; and  not  of  these  alone  but 
the  wealth  also  of  India  and  China.  But 
besides  wealth  they  gave  her  something 
which  she  needed  more : they  gave  her  life. 
She  must  long  ago  have  perished  of  corrup- 
tion, did  not  the  fresh  pure  blood  of  Britain, 
Gaul  and  Spain  come  throbbing  through 
the  Empire  to  give  health  to  its  diseased 
heart.  Only  when  the  heart  itself  became 
surcharged  with  corruption  and  poured  its 
foulness  back  into  the  system  did  the 
Empire  decay.  But  this  was  not  yet. 
More  than  two  centuries  had  to  pass  after 
the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius  (a.d.  160-181) 
before  the  final  rot  set  in : such  was  the 
strange  vitality  of  that  Empire,  the  greatest 
the  world  has  ever  seen. 

From  time  to  time  the  Emperors  made 


6 THK  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

desperate  efforts  to  stem  the  rising  tide  of 
immorality.  As  practical  men  they  recog- 
nised what  Napoleon  and  even  Voltaire 
recognised,  that  there  could  be  no  morality 
for  the  masses  without  religion ; but  they 
did  not  realise  so  clearly  that  there  could  be 
religion,  especially  pagan  religion,  without 
morality.  This  was  indeed  what  came  about 
in  the  second  century,  especially  during  the 
reigns  of  Marcus  Aurelius  and  his  pre- 
decessor. There  was  a great  revival  in 
religion  but  no  corresponding  improvement 
in  morals.  Nor  was  this  strange.  The  gods 
themselves  were  represented  as  grossly 
immoral  beings  ; religion  was  merely  a 
business  transaction  with  them — a quid 
pro  quo — and  under  the  code  of  honour 
which  too  often  marks  such  transactions. 
Hence,  if  you  safely  could,  it  was  quite  the 
thing  to  cheat  the  gods  ; you  took  your 
chance,  but  the  probability  was  that  you 
would  get  the  worst  of  it,  since  the  gods 
were  the  more  dexterous  sharpers. 

Such  were  the  old  Graeco-Roman  gods ; 
but  just  at  this  time  there  was  new  and 
better  blood  introduced  into  the  Pantheon. 
The  gods  of  Egypt  and  the  East — Mithra 
and  Isis — strange  mystic  deities,  began  to 
be  in  high  honour  all  over  the  Empire.  In 
these  new  cults  there  was  much  that  was 
higher  and  nobler  than  the  old  Roman  re- 


PRELUDE 


7 


ligion — in  every  religion,  as  St.  Augustine 
says,  there  is  something  good  and  true — 
but  mixed  with  this  good  there  was  gross 
immorality  officially  sanctioned. 

It  is  strange  to  think  of  Marcus  as  a 
devotee  of  all  these  superstitions ; yet  such 
he  was.  The  intellectual  and  the  cultured 
usually  were  sceptical  about  the  tales  of 
the  gods ; but  few  of  them  forbore  paying 
them  the  customary  homage.  They  looked 
on  religion  as  a political  and  social  duty 
and  went  through  its  functions  as  such. 
Marcus  took  the  ceremonies  more  seriously 
than  did  the  usual  Roman  of  high  rank ; 
but  even  his  faith  in  the  old  myths  wavered. 
He  was  content,  however,  not  to  pry  into 
high  matters,  and  adopted  the  Stoic  attitude 
towards  them.  These  philosophers  inter- 
preted the  legends,  often  by  Procrustean 
methods,  to  suit  their  own  doctrine,  but  in 
reality  thought  their  truth  or  falsehood 
of  little  practical  importance.  For  them 
the  chief  thing  was  to  live  a life  of  virtue, 
relying  on  one’s  own  strength.  He  who 
lived  such  a life  they  held  to  be  better  than 
the  gods ; and  in  fact  many  of  them  did 
lead  admirable  lives,  as  far  as  we  can  judge. 
Their  virtue,  if  mingled  most  frequently 
with  an  unlovely  and  repellant  pride,  was 
at  all  events  a relief  amidst  the  universal 
corruption  of  pagan  Rome. 


8 THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

When  we  consider  his  pagan  surroundings 
we  marvel  at  the  virtue  of  Marcus  Aurelius  ; 
but,  great  as  this  was,  Rome  had  now 
something  greater  far.  There  were  at  this 
time  many  silent  figures  who  passed  with 
downcast  eyes  and  modest  mien  through 
her  polluted  streets  ; they  met  in  strange 
places  and  celebrated  strange  rites ; they 
did  good  to  all ; and  all  about  them  breathed 
a purer  air,  a fragrance  of  Heaven  unknown 
before.  These  were  they  beside  whose 
God-given  strength  of  soul  the  strugglings 
of  the  Stoic  Emperor  were  but  the  feeble 
gropings  of  an  infant.  Christianity  was  fast 
spreading  over  the  Empire.  Already  the 
Catacombs  were  extending  in  a maze  of 
net-work  beside  Rome.  All  was  ready  for 
the  greatest  persecution  the  Church  had 
yet  endured  ; this  time  it  was  to  come  from 
the  hands  of  the  well-meaning  but  narrow 
and  unfortunate  Marcus.  In  Rome  itself 
the  Christians  were  multiplying  fast ; con- 
verts were  made  amongst  the  nobility ; 
long  before  they  had  penetrated  even  into 
“ Caesar’s  household.”  It  was  about  this 
time  that  Tertullian  wrote  his  well-known 
words  : “We  are  but  of  yesterday  and  yet 
we  fill  every  place — your  cities,  your  houses, 
your  fortresses,  your  municipia,  councils, 
camps,  tribes,  decurias,  palace,  senate, 
forum  ; we  leave  you  your  temples.”  And 


PRELUDE 


9 


he  adds,  in  words  in  which  we  must  allow 
for  rhetorical  exaggeration : “ Were  we 

to  detach  ourselves  from  you,  you  would  be 
scared  by  your  solitude  and  by  the  silence, 
which  would  be  like  that  of  a dead  world.” 

Though  Marcus  must  have  known  from 
the  police  authorities  the  great  numbers  of 
the  Christians,  he  understood  little  of  their 
ideals.  It  is  the  tragedy  of  his  noble  life. 
To  quote  Arnold  again  : “ What  an  affinity 
for  Christianity  had  this  persecutor  of  the 
Christians  ! The  effusion  of  Christianity,  its 
relieving  tears,  its  happy  self-sacrifice,  were 
the  very  element  one  feels  for  which  his 
spirit  longed ; they  were  near  him,  he  touched 
them,  he  passed  them  by.  . . . What 

would  he  have  said  to  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  ? . . . What  would  have  become 
of  his  notions  of  the  exitiabilis  superstitio 
(the  deadly  superstition),  of  ‘ the  obstinacy 
of  the  Christians  ’ ? Vain  question  ! Yet 
the  greatest  charm  of  Marcus  Aurelius  is 
that  he  makes  us  ask  it.  We  see  him  wise, 
just,  self-governed,  tender,  thankful,  blame- 
less ; yet  with  all  this  agitated,  stretching 
out  his  arms  for  something  beyond,  tenden- 
temque  manm  ripae  ulterioris  amore." 

Of  the  details  of  the  external  life  of  Marcus 
Aurelius  we  know  very  little.  It  is  his 
internal  life  which  interests  us  most,  and 
that  is  recorded  for  us  by  his  own  hand  in 


10  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

his  book  of  Meditations.  They  are  notes, 
meant  probably  for  no  eyes  but  his  own, 
of  his  efforts  after  virtue — the  record  of  his 
soul.  That  the  ruler  of  the  Roman  Empire 
should  have  thought  such  thoughts  and, 
in  great  part,  lived  up  to  them  ; that  at  the 
same  time  he,  who  represented  the  best 
that  paganism  could  produce,  should  have 
fallen  far  short  of  the  heroism  shown  by 
Christian  slave-girls ; that  his  life  and 
meditations  prove  in  the  concrete  how  vast 
is  the  gulf  between  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural : in  these  facts  lie  the  various 
fascinations  which  the  Emperor  Marcus 
Aurelius  has  had  for  Pagan  and  Christian, 
for  Atheist  and  Theist,  for  the  Positivist, 
who  would  fain  be  rid  of  the  supernatural, 
and  the  Mystic  for  whom  the  supernatural 
is  everything. 


The  aiithor  desires  once  for  all  to  acknowledge  his  debt 
to  numerous  writers  dealing  with  the  life  and  period  of 
Marcus  Aurelius.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention  the 
names  of  Dill,  Pater,  and  Renan, 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  BOY  STOIC 

Annius  Verus,  known  to  the  world  by  his 
adopted  name  as  the  Emperor  Marcus 
Aurelius,  was  born  at  Rome  in  a.d.  121. 
His  father,  also  Annius  Verus,  was  descended 
from  a Spanish  family  which  a few  genera- 
tions before  had  settled  in  Rome.  Of  him 
we  know  little ; but  what  we  do  know  is 
favourable.  Marcus  tells  us  that  “ from 
his  reputation  and  remembrance  ” he 
learned  “ modesty  and  a manly  character.” 
His  mother’s  memory  he  always  recalled 
with  veneration  and  love.  She  it  was  that 
taught  him  “ piety  and  beneficence  and 
abstinence  not  only  from  evil  deeds  but 
even  from  evil  thoughts  ; and,  further,  sim- 
plicity in  my  way  of  living  far  removed 
from  the  habits  of  the  rich.” 

When  Marcus  was  born  the  reigning 
Emperor  was  Hadrian.  Hadrian  was  him- 
self a Spaniard  and  inclined  to  favour  those 
of  Spanish  descent.  Thus  the  family  of 
Annius  Verus  came  into  prominence ; and 
before  Marcus  was  yet  more  than  eight 
11 


12  THE  EMPEROE  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

years  of  age  the  Emperor  took  a special 
interest  in  him. 

The  boy  even  at  this  early  age  was  not 
quite  as  the  other  children  who  passed  to 
and  fro  in  the  Imperial  palace.  All  through 
life  his  health  was  imperfect ; yet  even  as 
a child  he  had  begun  to  practise  the  Stoic 
austerities.  He  slept  on  a plank  bed  and 
was  abstemious  at  table,  and  only  at  his 
mother’s  request  did  he  relax  these  practices. 
His  biographer  tells  us  that  “ he  was  grave 
from  his  first  infancy.”  In  later  years  he 
himself  thanked  the  gods  “ that  he  had 
never  been  hurried  into  any  offence  against 
them,”  though,  with  his  wonted  candour, 
he  adds,  that  he  “ had  the  disposition, 
which,  if  opportunity  had  offered,  might 
have  led  him  to  do  something  of  the  kind ; 
but,  through  their  favour,  there  never  was 
such  a concurrence  of  circumstances  as  put 
me  to  the  trial.”  The  candour  of  the  child 
was  so  transparent  that  Hadrian  used  to 
call  him  not  Vents  (true)  but  Verissimus 
(exceedingly  true). 

It  w’as  not  strange  that  Hadrian  should 
have  been  interested  in  this  grave,  pensive, 
unworldly  child.  He  was  a keen  observer 
of  human  nature,  and  regarded  with  curi- 
osity and  a certain  reverence  a character 
so  superior  to  its  surroundings  and  withal 
the  very  antithesis  of  his  own.  He  himself 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


18 


was  a strange  mixture  of  the  Greek  and  the 
Roman.  Roman  in  his  legislative  and 
administrative  ability,  he  was  Greek  and 
modern  in  his  love  of  novelty,  his  eager 
curiosity,  his  frivolous  attitude  towards 
life’s  greatest  problems — the  problems  of 
God  and  the  soul.  This  last  aspect  of  his 
character  is  enshrined  for  ever  in  his  dying 
address  to  his  soul : — 

Animula,  vagula,  blandula, 

Hospes  comesque  corporis. 

Quae  nunc  abibis  in  loca ; 

Pallidula,  rigida,  nudula — 

Nec,  ut  soles,  dabis  iocos  ? 

which  Merivale  thus  translates, 

“ Soul  of  mine,  pretty  one,  flitting  one. 
Guest  and  partner  of  my  clay. 
Whither  wilt  thou  hie  away ; 

Pallid  one,  rigid  one,  naked  one — 
Never  to  play  again,  never  to  play.” 

Candour,  simplicity,  purity,  gravity : 
these  were  the  old  Roman  virtues  of  the 
days  of  Cato  ; but  they  were  little  in  fashion 
in  the  heyday  of  the  Empire.  However,  they 
were  interesting  as  antiquities  ; and  Hadrian 
loved  everything  old  because  he  was  so 
modern  himself  : they  had  the  charm  of  the 
rus  in  urbe,  of  innocence  in  high  life,  and  were 
grateful  to  one  who  loved  freshness ; and 
so,  while  he  was  in  Rome,  Hadrian  always 


14  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

had  the  boy  near  him.  Hadrian  and  Marcus ; 
the  agnostic  and  the  devotee ; the  lover 
of  life  and  the  boy  Stoic ; Greek  frivolity 
and  Roman  gravitas : it  is  an  interesting 
contrast. 

Already  Marcus  had  the  ritual  instinct 
which  marked  him  in  later  life  and  at  the 
age  of  eight  Hadrian  appointed  him  chief  of 
the  College  of  Salii ; a boy  bishop  of  boy 
priests  devoted  to  Mars,  the  god  of  War. 
In  this  office,  in  the  early  days  of  March, 
he  led  the  patrician  youth  in  their  religious 
dances  through  the  streets  and  presided  at 
the  Saliarian  banquets.  He  was  scrupu- 
lously exact  in  the  fulfilment  of  these  duties. 
He  already  knew  by  heart  the  antiquated 
formulas,  couched  in  barbarous  Latin, 
whose  meaning  most  men  had  forgotten. 
In  the  complex  ceremonies  he  never  needed 
a prompter ; such  was  his  knowledge  of  their 
rubrics.  In  one  of  these  rites  the  boys 
threw  chaplets  at  the  head  of  a reclining 
statue  of  Mars  ; but  Marcus  alone  succeeded 
in  crowning  the  god.  It  was  an  omen  of 
the  wars  which  later  were  to  break  in  upon 
his  peace. 

At  the  age  of  eleven  Marcus  adopted  the 
pallium  or  cloak  of  the  Stoics — ^thus  conse- 
crating his  life  to  divine  philosophy. 
Hadrian  knew  Greek  and  loved  Greek 
thoughts  and  Greek  ways ; he  knew  Plato 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


15 


and  Plato’s  ideal — the  Philosopher-King. 
Here  was  an  opportunity  of  realising  the 
ideal ; why  not  make  Marcus  Emperor  ? 
His  fanciful  mind  would  have  a keen  delight 
in  speculating  on  the  future  of  the  Empire 
under  such  a rule.  After  me  the  deluge ; 
and  he  resolved  to  let  posterity  have  the 
benefit  of  the  experiment,  and  lay  the  blame 
or  merit  of  the  result  not  on  him  but  on 
Plato. 

He  at  first  had  adopted  as  his  successor 
Lucius  Verus,  the  handsome  and  dissolute 
father  of  the  equally  handsome  and  dis- 
solute Lucius  Verus,  who  was  afterwards 
Marcus’  colleague  as  Emperor.  But  Lucius 
died  before  Hadrian,  and  he  then  chose  a 
worthier  successor.  This  was  the  best  of 
Senators — a Roman  of  Cato’s  school  but 
free  from  the  absurdities  of  that  school — 
Antoninus  Pius. 

In  making  this  second  choice  Hadrian  pro- 
vided for  the  succession  of  the  boy  Marcus 
in  due  time.  He  ordered  Antoninus  to 
adopt  as  his  sons  and  successors  Marcus 
and  the  younger  Lucius  Verus.  Thus  began 
the  lifelong  attachment  between  Antoninus 
and  Marcus — the  rulers  of  the  Golden  Age — 
the  most  admirably  virtuous,  though  far 
from  being  the  ablest  of  the  Roman  Em- 
perors. 

Beyond  these  few  facts  about  his  early 


16  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

boyhood  searcely  anything  has  been  handed 
down  to  us  of  his  doings  till  his  seventeenth 
year.  What  little  we  do  know  we  owe  to 
the  famous  first  book  of  his  Meditations. 
This  he  wrote  one  evening  in  his  tent 
“ among  the  Quadi,  at  the  Granua,”  a 
tributary  of  the  Danube,  during  a lull  in 
the  war  against  the  barbarians  of  the  North. 
The  troubles  of  his  reign  had  made  his  later 
years  a martyrdom  that  sorely  tried  his 
Stoic  spirit,  and  on  that  evening  his  mind 
sought  rest  in  thinking  of  his  childhood  and 
early  youth.  The  book  was  written  by 
an  invalid  amidst  strife  and  hate  and  hard- 
ship ; yet  its  ever-recurring  note  is  the  note 
of  gratitude  struck  on  the  chords  of  love. 
He  recalls  with  affection  all  who  had  been 
good  to  him — good  in  the  truest  sense ; 
for  they  had  moulded  his  soul  to  virtue. 

“ To  the  gods,”  he  says,  “ I am  indebted 
for  having  good  grandfathers,  good  parents, 
"'a  good  sister,  good  teachers,  good  associates, 
good  kinsmen,  and  friends,  nearly  every- 
thing good.”  From  the  example  or  precept 
of  each  he  learned  some  special  virtue : 
from  his  grandfather  Verus  “ good  morals 
and  the  government  of  my  temper  ” ; from 
his  director  “ to  be  neither  of  the  green  nor 
of  the  blue  party  at  the  games  in  the  circus, 
not  a partisan  either  of  the  Palmularius  or 
the  Scutarius  at  the  gladiators’  fights ; to 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


17 


endure  labour  and  to  want  little ; to  work 
with  my  own  hands,  and  not  to  meddle  with 
other  people’s  affairs,  and  not  to  be  ready  to 
listen  to  slander.”  Luxury,  divoi’ce,  and 
slavery  by  this  time  had  brought  Roman 
family  life  to  its  lowest  ebb  of  morality,  and 
it  is  pleasing  to  find  the  harder  and  purer 
ideals  of  older  times  still  honoured  in  at  least 
some  of  the  nobler  households. 

Marcus  was  educated  altogether  by 
private  teachers  in  his  own  home ; he 
did  not  attend  the  public  schools — a fact 
which  he  recalls  with  gratitude  ; and  he  had 
reason  to  be  grateful.  These  schools  had 
multiplied  under  the  generous  patronage  of 
the  Emperors;  no  expense  was  spared  in 
securing  for  them  the  best  possible  teachers  ; 
but  in  them  the  theory  of  virtue  was  ac- 
quired, if  acquired  at  all,  at  the  cost  of  its 
practice.  The  pcedagogus  or  slave  who 
accompanied  each  boy  to  and  from  school 
usually  taught  him  a more  insinuating  and 
acceptable  code  of  morality  than  the  Stoic 
asceticism  taught  at  times  in  the  schools ; 
though  some  even  of  the  teachers  seem  to 
have  vied  with  the  slaves  in  the  inculcation 
of  immorality ; hence  these  schools  were 
hotbeds  of  vice  and  in  ill-repute  amongst 
parents  who  had  a care  for  their  children’s 
virtue.  It  is  scarcely  possible  that  the  keen 
edge  of  Marcus’  moral  nature  should  not 
3 


18  THE  EMPEROK  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

have  been  blunted  in  such  surroundings ; 
even  his  passion  for  perfection  could  scarcely 
have  kept  him  unscathed.  As  it  was,  he 
had  the  best  teachers  that  could  be  procured, 
mostly  belonging  to  the  Stoic  School,  and 
in  the  first  book  of  the  Meditations  he  traces 
his  development  under  their  direction : — 

“ From  Diognetus  I learned  not  to  busy 
myself  about  trifling  things,  and  not  to  give 
credit  to  what  was  said  by  miracle-workers 
and  jugglers  about  incantations  and  the 
driving  away  of  demons  and  such  things  ” 
— perhaps  an  allusion  to  the  Christians — 
“ and  to  have  desired  a plank  bed  and 
whatever  else  of  this  kind  belongs  to  the 
Grecian  discipline.”  Rusticus,  a famous 
Stoic  philosopher — ^the  same  who  after- 
wards as  Prefect  of  Rome  condemned  St. 
Justin  to  death, — taught  him  to  avoid 
sophistry,  rhetoric,  poetry,  and  fine  writing, 
then  much  in  fashion ; “ not  to  walkabout 
the  house  in  my  outdoor  dress,  nor  to  do 
other  things  of  that  kind  ” ; to  shun  vin- 
dictiveness ; to  read  deeply,  not  superfici- 
ally ; and,  greatest  benefit  of  all,  he  made 
him  acquainted  with  the  discourses  of 
Epictetus.  These  discourses  henceforth 
became  his  a Kempis  and  suggested  the 
writing  of  his  own  Meditations.  Apollonius 
— ^the  most  rigid  of  Stoics — impressed  on 
him  the  great  Stoic  virtue  “ to  look  at 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


19 


nothing  else,  not  even  for  a moment,  except 
to  reason ; and  to  be  always  the  same,  in 
sharp  pains,  on  the  occasion  of  the  loss  of  a 
child  and  in  long  illness.”  This  last  sentenee 
is  full  of  suppressed  pathos  in  view  of  his 
long  life  of  ill-health  and  the  early  death  of 
most  of  his  children.  He  seems  to  struggle 
against  the  sense  of  the  tears  of  things  and 
the  mortal  woes  that  touch  even  the  Stoic 
heart ; but  he  is  conscious  that  here  at 
least  he  is  too  much  a man  to  be  a sage ; 
for  in  his  letters  to  Fronto  we  see  the  most 
tender  solicitude  for  his  delicate  children, 
a mother’s  anxiety  as  to  every  sign  of  their 
declining  or  returning  health. 

As  Diognetus  had  taught  him  austerity  ; 
Rusticus,  sincerity ; Apollonius,  self-suppres- 
sion ; so  it  was  a grandson  of  Plutarch’s, 
Sextus  of  Chaeronea,  who  taught  him 
affection.  From  Alexander  the  gram- 
marian, Fronto  his  tutor  and  intimate 
friend,  and  Alexander  the  Platonic  he  learned 
other  graces  of  thought  and  manner  out  of 
which  was  woven  that  inexplicable  thing, 
the  character  of  the  perfect  gentleman. 
Nature’s  saint.  Catulus,  though  a Stoic, 
urged  him  “ to  love  his  children  truly  ” ; 
Severus,  “to  love  my  kin,  to  love  truth  and 
to  love  justice  ” ; to  know  and  honour  the 
Stoic  heroes  and  martyrs,  Thrasea,  Helvi- 
dius,  Cato,  Dion,  Brutus ; to  have  as  his  ideal 


20  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

“ a polity  administered  with  equal  rights 
and  equal  freedom  of  speech,  and  a kingly 
government,  which  respects  most  of  all  the 
freedom  of  the  governed.”  But  of  all 
his  teachers  none  can  have  had  so  beneficial 
an  effect  on  his  too  rigid  nature  as  Maximus. 
His  character  is  that  of  the  natural  man  at 
his  best. 

With  Maximus  he  closes  the  list  of  his 
teachers.  His  minute  observation  of  their 
characteristics,  remembered  through  a 
troubled  life,  paralleled  only  by  the  minute- 
ness of  his  self-analysis,  testifies  to  his  in- 
tense desire  for  virtue.  So  intense  indeed 
was  this  desire  that  it  became  a moral  disease 
which  to  some  extent  paralysed  his  power 
for  action.  But,  despite  its  excess,  we 
must  pay  homage  to  this  thirst  of  the  soul, 
this  torture  of  the  spirit,  those 

“ High  instincts,  before  which  our  mortal 
nature 

Did  tremble,  like  a guilty  thing  sur- 
prised.” 

Fully  to  slake  that  thirst,  to  alleviate  that 
tortm’e,  Marcus  should  have  shared  the 
love-feasts  of  the  Christians,  the  morning 
sacrifices,  the  homilies  and  the  ceremonies 
of  the  Catacombs.  But  he  knew  not  the 
sublime  secrets,  the  treasure,  hidden  be- 
neath the  earth  he  daily  trod. 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


21 


Hadrian  died  in  a.d.  138,  when  Mareus 
was  seventeen  years  of  age.  Antoninus 
Verus,  better  known  as  Antoninus  Pius, 
succeeded  as  Emperor,  betrothed  Marcus 
to  his  beautiful  daughter  Faustina,  and  had 
them  both  to  live  with  him  during  the  rest 
of  his  life  in  the  Imperial  household.  Hence- 
forth Marcus  and  Antoninus  were  bound  by 
the  closest  ties  of  friendship.  Marcus  revered 
Antoninus  with  an  almost  superstitious 
reverence.  Antoninus’  word  was  law  for 
him,  and  afterwards  in  the  rule  of  the 
Empire  he  sought  to  avoid  the  least  devia- 
tion from  his  predecessor’s  rule  of  action. 
In  this  he  was  wise,  if  we  are  to  judge  by  the 
picture  he  himself  has  left  us  of  Antoninus. 
He  says  : — “ In  him  I observed  mildness  of 
temper,  constancy  and  contempt  of  honours ; 
a love  of  labour  and  readiness  to  listen  to 
the  advice  of  others  ; strict  justice  ; a know- 
ledge of  the  time  for  vigorous  action  and  for 
remissness.  He  considered  himself  no  more 
than  a citizen.  His  disposition  was  to  keep 
his  friends,  and  not  to  be  soon  tired  of  them, 
nor  yet  to  be  extravagant  in  his  affection  ; 
to  be  contented,  cheerful  and  provident ; 
to  shun  flattery  and  display  ; to  be  watchful 
over  the  affairs  of  the  Empire  and  to  be 
economic  in  expenditure.  In  regard  to  the 
gods,  he  avoided  superstition  ; as  to  philo- 
sophy, he  was  not  a sophist  or  a pedant,  but 


22  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

honoured  true  philosophers ; not  however 
reproaching  pretended  philosophers  nor  yet 
being  their  dupe.  In  society  he  was  easy 
and  agreeable  and  free  from  all  petty 
jealousy.  After  his  paroxysms  of  headaches 
he  came  immediately  fresh  and  vigorous 
to  his  usual  occupations.  His  secrets  were 
not  many  but  very  few  and  very  rare,  and 
these  only  about  public  matters.  He  was  a 
man  who  looked  to  what  ought  to  be  done, 
not  to  the  reputation  which  is  got  by  a man’s 
acts.  That  saying  might  be  applied  to  him 
which  is  recorded  of  Socrates,  that  he  was 
able  both  to  abstain  from  and  to  enjoy  those 
things  which  many  are  too  weak  to  abstain 
from  and  cannot  enjoy  without  excess.  To 
be  strong  both  to  bear  the  one  and  to  be 
sober  in  the  other  is  the  mark  of  a man  who 
has  a perfect  and  invincible  soul,  such  as  he 
showed  in  the  illness  of  Maximus.” 

In  many  respects  the  character  of  Anto- 
ninus was  more  admirable  than  that  of  his 
successor,  whose  glory  has  eclipsed  his. 
He  was  an  abler  ruler  because  he  was  not 
so  good  a Stoic.  He  had  more  of  human 
sympathy  and  a more  varied  interest  in  life 
because  he  was  not  so  much  engrossed  in 
the  study  of  his  own  soul.  He  was  simple, 
kind,  and  genial,  whereas  Marcus  was  cold, 
reserved,  self-conscious.  As  Renan  says : 
“ Antoninus  was  a philosopher  without 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


28 


boasting  of  it,  almost  without  knowing  it. 
Marcus  Aurelius  was  a philosopher  of  admir- 
able temperament  and  sincerity,  but  he  was 
a philosopher  by  reflection.”  Of  the  two, 
the  more  attractive  is  the  philosopher  by 
nature,  who  knows  not  that  he  is  so.  The 
philosopher  by  reflection  is  always  a difficult 
person  and  on  occasion  may  be  terrible. 
Had  Antoninus  written  a book  of  Medita- 
tions they  would  probably  have  shown  a 
less  thorough  analysis  of  the  human  soul  in 
all  its  varying  moods,  a less  gnawing  desire 
for  perfection,  but  they  would  present  a 
character  more  pleasing  to  and  imitable  by 
those  whose  ways  are  the  ways  of  men  and 
not  of  the  abstraction  of  a man — which  is 
what  the  Stoic  “ wise  man  ” would  be. 

Antoninus  loved  all  the  innocent  pleasures 
of  life.  But  most  of  all  he  loved  the  joys  of 
rural  life — the  joys  of  sea  and  air  and  wood 
and  blue  Italian  sky,  the  ardour  of  the  chase 
and  the  mirth  of  the  harvest  home.  He 
lived  most  of  his  life  in  this  simple  way  at 
his  villa  at  Lorium  with  his  own  household 
and  Marcus  Aurelius.  The  letters  of  Marcus 
to  his  tutor  Fronto  give  us  a vivid  picture 
of  this  life.  When  the  correspondence 
begins,  Marcus  was  about  eighteen  years  of 
age.  He  writes  during  the  vintage  season : — 

“ My  Dearest  Master, — I am  well.  To- 
day I studied  from  three  till  eight  in  the 


24  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

morning  after  taking  food.  I then  put  on 
my  slippers,  and  from  eight  till  nine  had  a 
most  enjoyable  walk  up  and  down  before 
my  chamber.  Then,  booted  and  cloaked — 
for  so  we  were  commanded  to  appear — I 
went  to  wait  upon  my  lord  the  Emperor. 
We  went  a-hunting,  did  doughty  deeds, 
heard  a rumour  that  boars  had  been  caught, 
but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen.  However, 
we  climbed  a pretty  steep  hill  and  in  the 
afternoon  returned  home.  I went  straight 
to  my  books.  Off  with  my  boots,  down  with 
my  cloak  ! I spent  a couple  of  hours  in  bed. 
I read  Cato’s  speech  on  the  property  of 
Pulchra  and  another  in  which  he  impeaches 
a tribune.  Ho,  ho  ! I hear  you  cry  to  your 
man,  off  with  you  as  fast  as  you  can  and 
bring  me  those  speeches  from  the  library 
of  Apollo.  No  use  to  send ; I have  these 
books  with  me  too.  You  must  get  round  the 
Tiberian  librarian ; you  will  have  to  spend 
something  on  the  matter ; and  when  I 
return  to  town  I shall  expect  to  go  shares 
with  him.  Well,  after  reading  those  speeches, 
I wrote  a wretched  trifle  destined  for  drown- 
ing or  burning.  No,  indeed,  my  attempt  at 
writing  did  not  come  off  at  all  to-day ; the 
composition  of  a hunter  or  a vintager  whose 
shouts  are  echoing  through  my  chamber, 
hateful  and  wearisome  as  the  law-courts. 
What  have  I said  ? Yes,  it  was  rightly  said. 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


25 


for  my  master  is  an  orator.  I think  I have 
caught  a cold,  whether  from  walking  in 
slippers  or  from  writing  badly,  I do  not 
know.  I am  always  annoyed  with  phlegm, 
but  to-day  more  than  usual.  Well,  I will 
pour  oil  on  my  head  and  go  off  to  sleep. 
I don’t  mean  to  put  one  drop  in  my  lamp 
to-day,  so  weary  am  I from  riding  and 
sneezing.  Farewell,  dearest  and  most 
beloved  master,  whom  I miss,  I may  say, 
more  than  Rome  itself.” 

I shall  have  so  much  to  say  of  the  virtue 
of  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  it  is  such  a rare 
thing  to  get  a saint  or  an  emperor  off  his 
guard,  putting  on  his  slippers,  grumbling 
at  the  noise  outside  his  windows  or  catching 
a cold  and  sneezing — ^though  I am  sure  they 
do  those  things — ^that  I cannot  refrain  from 
quoting  another  letter;  it  tells  us  more 
about  this  cold,  and  is  the  only  place  in 
literature,  as  far  as  I know,  where  it  is 
recorded  that  a philosopher,  a saint,  or  an 
emperor  took  a bath  and  snored.  He 
writes  to  Fronto  : — 

“My  Beloved  Master, — I am  well.  I 
slept  a little  more  than  usual  on  account 
of  my  slight  cold,  which  seems  to  be  well 
again.  So  I spent  my  time  from  five  till 
nine  in  the  morning  partly  in  reading 
Cato’s  agriculture,  partly  in  writing,  not 
quite  so  badly  as  yesterday  indeed.  Then 


26  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

after  waiting  upon  my  father  I soothed  my 
throat  with  honey- water,  ejecting  it  without 
swallowing.  Then  I attended  my  father  as 
he  offered  sacrifice.  Then  to  breakfast. 
What  do  you  think  I ate  ? Only  a little 
bread,  though  I saw  others  devouring 
beans,  onions,  and  sardines  ! Then  we  went 
out  to  the  vintage  and  got  hot  and  merry, 
but  left  a few  grapes  still  hanging,  as  the 
old  poet  says,  ‘ atop  on  the  topmost 
bough.’  At  noon  we  got  home  again  ; I 
worked  a little  but  it  was  not  much  good. 
Then  I chatted  a long  time  with  my  mother 
as  she  sat  on  her  bed.  My  conversation 
consisted  of,  ‘ What  do  you  suppose  my 
Fronto  is  doing  at  this  moment  ? ’ to  which 
she  answered,  ‘ and  my  Gratia,  what  is 
she  doing  ? ’ and  then  I,  ‘ and  our  little 
darling,  the  younger  Gratia  ? ’ And  while 
we  were  talking  and  quarrelling  as  to  which 
of  us  loved  all  of  you  best,  the  gong  sounded, 
which  meant  that  father  had  gone  across 
to  the  bath.  So  we  bathed,  and  dined  in 
the  oilpress  room.  I don’t  mean  that  we 
bathed  in  the  press  room ; but  we  bathed 
and  then  dined  and  amused  ourselves  with 
listening  to  the  peasants’  banter.  And 
now  that  I am  in  my  own  room  again, 
before  I roll  over  and  snore,  I am  fulfilling 
my  promise  and  giving  an  account  of  my 
day  to  my  dear  tutor ; and  if  I could  love 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


27 


him  bettei’  than  I do,  I would  consent  to 
miss  him  even  more  than  I miss  him  now. 
Take  care  of  yourself,  my  best  and  dearest 
Fronto,  wherever  you  are.  The  fact  is  that 
I love  you,  and  you  are  far  away.” 

So  far  we  have  seen  only  the  edifying — 
almost  priggish — side  of  Marcus’  character. 
The  monotony  of  his  perfection  is  relieved 
by  the  following  incident,  which  shows  that 
at  this  time  he  had  just  enough  mischief  in 
him — though  it  be  but  little — to  make  him 
amiable.  He  writes  : — “ When  my  father 
returned  home  from  the  vineyards,  f 
mounted  my  horse  as  usual,  and  rode  on 
ahead  some  little  way.  On  the  road  was 
a herd  of  sheep,  standing  crowded  together 
as  though  the  place  were  a desert,  with 
four  dogs  and  two  shepherds  but  nothing 
else.  Then  one  shepherd  said  to  another 
on  seeing  the  horsemen  : ‘ I say,  look  at 
these  horsemen  ; they  do  a deal  of  robbery.’ 
On  hearing  this,  I clap  spurs  to  my  horse  and 
ride  straight  for  the  sheep.  They  scatter 
in  consternation — hither  and  thither  they 
are  fleeting  and  bleating.  A shepherd 
throws  his  fork  and  the  fork  falls  on  the 
horseman  who  came  next  to  me.  We  make 
our  escape.” 

Thus  the  days  went  happily  at  Lorium 
in  the  companionship  of  Pius,  itself  “ a 
school  of  all  the  virtues.”  For  twenty-three 


28  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

years  Marcus  studied  in  this  school,  but 
like  all  good  things  this  sweet  discipleship 
too  had  an  end.  In  a.d.  161  Antoninus 
died  a death  as  peaceful  as  his  life  had  been. 
Feeling  the  end  nigh  he  put  his  affairs  in 
order  and  commanded  that  the  golden 
statue  of  Fortune,  the  symbol  of  Empire, 
which  had  ever  to  stand  in  the  Emperor’s 
state  apartments,  should  be  borne  to 
Marcus’  chamber.  To  the  tribune  on  duty 
he  gave  the  password  JEquanimitas  (peace 
of  soul)  as  the  watchword  of  the  night, — 
the  night  of  his  own  soul ; then  turning 
about,  he  seemed  to  fall  asleep  : his  own 
peaceful  spirit  had  passed  away ; “ Karta-ov 
virvm  fiakaKaTaro)  as  if  in  gentlest  sleep.” 

The  sceptre  passed  into  the  hands  of 
Marcus,  then  forty  years  of  age.  For  him 
it  was  the  beginning  of  sorrows.  JEschylus 
would  have  said  that  the  gods  were  jealous 
of  his  too  great  prosperity.  In  his  private 
life  they  were  good  to  him  on  account  of 
his  virtues,  but  it  were  unmeet  that  with 
such  virtues  mortal  man  should  join  the 
sovereignty  of  the  world ; for  such  a one 
might  justly  claim  more  homage  than  the 
questionable  individuals  who  inhabited 
Olympus  with  the  title  of  “ gods.”  The 
lot  of  men  also  had  been  too  happy  in  the 
Golden  Age  of  the  Antonines : it  would 
exceed  all  measure  were  Marcus,  the  ideal 


THE  BOY  STOIC 


29 


philosopher-king,  to  rule  with  such  favour 
from  above  as  his  predecessors  had  enjoyed. 
So  might  iEschylus  have  prophesied  truly 
after  the  event,  as  is  the  way  with  moralists. 
Thenceforth  the  glory  of  that  age  waned. 
To  the  philosopher  by  nature  had  succeeded 
the  philosopher  by  reflection.  We  shall  see 
the  result  of  the  change. 


CHAPTER  III 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE 

Plato  had  said  that  the  world  would  never 
enjoy  happiness  until  a philosopher  should 
become  king  or  until  a king  should  become 
a philosopher.  With  the  accession  of  Mar- 
cus the  rule  of  the  philosopher-king  was  an 
accomplished  fact ; according  to  Gibbon, 
“ the  happiness  of  the  subject  was  the  one 
object  of  government,”  and  all  the  good 
effects  anticipated  by  Plato  were  brought 
about.  “ If  a man  were  called  on,”  says  he, 
“ to  fix  the  period  in  the  history  of  the  world 
during  which  the  condition  of  the  human 
race  was  most  happy  and  prosperous,  he 
would,  without  hesitation,  name  that 
which  elapsed  from  the  death  of  Domitian 
to  the  accession  of  Commodus  ” (thus  in- 
cluding the  reigns  of  Nerva,  Trajan,  Had- 
rian, Antoninus  and  Marcus  Aurelius). 
But  later  historians  have  reversed  this 
verdict  on  the  Golden  Age.  They  have 
shown  that  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
was  one  of  singular  disasters  to  the  State. 
And  indeed  Marcus  himself  had  no  such 
faith  in  the  magical  power  of  philosophy 
30 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  81 


on  the  throne ; he  did  not  believe  in  the 
possibility  of  realising  the  Ideal  State.  “ Do 
not,”  he  says,  “ expect  Plato’s  Republic : 
but  be  content  if  the  smallest  thing  goes  on 
well,  and  consider  such  an  event  to  be  no 
small  matter.  For  who  can  change  men’s 
principles  ? and  without  a change  of  prin- 
ciples what  else  is  there  than  the  slavery  of 
men  who  groan  while  they  pretend  to  obey  ? 
Simple  and  modest  is  the  work  of  philosophy. 
Draw  me  not  aside  to  insolence  and  pride.” 

But  if  Marcus  despaired  of  establishing 
the  reign  of  Philosophy  as  the  Queen  of 
Men,  he,  at  any  rate,  secured  the  rule  of  the 
Philosophers.  Already  under  Antoninus 
they  had  been  in  high  honour;  but  under 
Marcus  they  filled  all  the  great  offices  of 
State.  Sophists  and  rhetoricians  were 
elevated  to  the  senate,  and  became  consuls 
and  proconsuls  merely  because  they 
preached  renunciation  and  had  been  Mar- 
cus’ tutors.  He  placed  their  images  amongst 
his  household  gods  and  their  statues  in  the 
forum  and  the  senate-house.  They  were 
rulers  in  the  provinces,  judges  in  the  law- 
courts,  leaders  in  the  senate.  And  on  the 
whole  they  acquitted  themselves  well ; 
though  amongst  their  number  there  were 
not  a few  impostors,  long  beards,  asceticism 
and  rough  cloaks  became  the  fashion  and 
profitable.  “ His  beard  is  worth  ten 


32  THE  EMPEROH  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

thousand  sesterces  to  him,”  was  the  remark 
passed  on  one  of  them ; “ come,  we  shall 
have  to  pay  goats  a salary  next ! ” Marcus 
distinguished  between  “ true  philosophers  ” 
and  “ pretended  philosophers,”  and  learnt 
from  Antoninus  to  esteem  the  former  and 
to  show  indulgence  to  the  latter,  yet  “ with- 
out permitting  himself  to  be  their  dupe.” 

When  it  got  to  court.  Stoicism  put  away 
its  primitive  roughness.  “ Plain  living  and 
high  thinking  ” became  the  accepted  creed 
among  the  brilliant  society  of  which  Faus- 
tina was  the  centre  and  the  exemplar  ; just 
as  now  in  England  ritualism  and  “ the  Home- 
ward movement  ” become  from  time  to 
time  the  tone  amongst  elegant  blue-stock- 
ings of  both  sexes.  But  of  course  in  Rome, 
as  in  London,  it  would  have  been  bad  taste 
to  take  seriously  what  was,  with  them,  at 
least,  merely  an  interesting  sentiment. 
Society  now  turns  out  to  hear  the  newest 
preacher  on  the  newest  theology,  or  the 
fashionable  and  good-looking  preacher  on 
any  or  no  theology.  So,  too,  then ; Faustina 
and  the  Roman  ladies  came  in  all  the  glory 
of  flowered  silk  and  rare  jewels  to  the  Temple 
of  Peace,  there  to  hear  Rusticus  or  Fronto, 
or  the  Emperor  Aurelius  himself,  lecturing 
on  the  vanity  of  vanities,  the  shortness  of 
life,  the  blessedness  of  renunciation.  Great 
families  had  each  its  philosopher — a kind 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  33 


of  family  chaplain ; and  the  great  ladies 
came  in  their  sedan  chairs  to  consult  their 
philosophical  director  on  the  latest  freaks 
of  their  fancy. 

This  interest  in  philosophy  was  partly  the 
cause,  partly  the  effect,  of  a general  move- 
ment towards  more  humane  views.  The  hard 
pagan  world  was  beginning  to  soften  ; and 
this  humanity  was  the  greatest  glory  of  the 
Golden  Age.  The  Stoics  preached  the  bro- 
therhood of  man,  and  sympathy  with  men,  as 
men.  Hence  charity  too  became  part  of  the 
Time-Spirit  and  showed  itself  in  milder  legis- 
lation and  in  beneficent  institutions.  The 
great  ones  of  the  world  at  last  took  notice 
of  the  weak  and  the  outcast ; the  stern  rule 
of  might  and  the  pitiless  destruction  of  the 
“unfit”  at  last  yielded  to  altruistic  senti- 
ments. The  slave,  the  orphan,  and  woman 
were  no  longer  to  be  the  prey  of  society. 

In  his  legislation  in  favour  of  the  op- 
pressed Marcus  Aurelius  did  but  carry  on 
the  work  begun  by  Antoninus  and  his 
excellent  council  of  jurists.  Their  first  care 
was  to  make  easier  the  lot  of  the  slave. 
Seneca  had  said  ; “ All  men,  if  you  only  go 
back  to  their  beginnings,  have  the  gods  for 
their  fathers”  ; and  Epictetus  : “ The  slave 
like  you  is  the  son  of  Zeus  ” ; and  it  was  in 
this  spirit  of  reverence  for  his  fellow-man  as 
his  brother  and  his  equal  that  Marcus 

Bue..  4 


34  THE  EMPEEOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

sought  to  confer  on  him,  in  addition  to  a 
theoretical  fraternity  and  equality,  the 
third  of  the  trinity — freedom.  The  master 
was  no  longer  allowed  absolute  power  of  life 
and  death  over  his  slaves ; the  slave  was 
recognised  as  having  rights ; and  enfran- 
chisement was  encouraged.  As  the  condi- 
tion of  the  slave,  so  too  that  of  women  and 
orphans  was  improved.  The  inhuman 
position  of  woman  under  old  Roman  law, 
by  which  she  was  practically  excluded  from 
recognition  as  a member  of  the  family,  was 
altered  by  laws  conferring  on  her  rights  of 
property ; while  orphans  were  provided  for 
by  numerous  charitable  institutions. 

The  first  of  these  institutions  endowed 
by  public  funds  had  been  founded  by  the 
Emperors  Nerva  and  Trajan.  They  were 
multiplied  and  developed  by  Antoninus  and 
still  further  by  Marcus.  On  the  death  of 
the  elder  Faustina,  Antoninus  had  founded 
an  institution  for  orphan  girls — called  the 
puellae  Faustinianae  (the  little  maidens  of 
Faustina) ; and  on  the  death  of  the  younger 
Faustina,  Marcus,  faithful  in  this  as  in  all 
else  to  the  example  of  Antoninus,  founded  a 
similar  orphanage.  These  charitable  works 
and  many  others  he  was  enabled  to  carry 
out  by  the  large  fortune,  amounting  to 
twenty-two  million  pounds,  which  Anto- 
ninus had  bequeathed  to  him. 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  86 


Yet  all  his  financial  policy  was  not  so 
wise.  His  good  nature  and  easy-going 
attitude  towards  money  matters  may  have 
been  good  Stoicism,  but  it  was  bad  states- 
manship. On  his  accession  he  gave  each 
of  the  soldiers  of  the  Praetorian  guard  a 
largess  of  £160  and  to  the  other  soldiers  a 
proportional  sum.  He  frequently  distri- 
buted free  corn  to  the  mob,  and,  towards 
the  end  of  his  reign,  remitted  large  debts 
due  to  the  Treasury  ; and  ordered  that  in  all 
cases  of  prosecution  on  behalf  of  the  trea- 
sury, the  benefit  of  the  doubt  was  to  be  given 
in  favour  of  the  defendant.  This  was  all 
very  well  while  Antoninus’  legacy  lasted  ; 
but  the  season  of  leanness  soon  came,  and 
war  and  the  plague  left  the  public  finances 
in  so  desperate  a condition  that  he  had  to 
sell  his  own  personal  property  and  debase 
the  coinage. 

The  result  of  this  generosity  had  been  to 
make  him  the  idol  of  the  unthinking  mob, 
though  we  have  every  reason  to  believe 
that  this  popularity  was  not  sought  for. 
Of  the  wise  man  he  says  : “ As  to  what  any 
man  shall  say  or  think  about  him  or  do 
against  him,  he  never  even  thinks  of  it, 
being  himself  contented  with  these  two 
things ; with  acting  justly  in  what  he  now 
does,  and  being  satisfied  with  what  is  now 
assigned  to  him ; and  he  lays  aside  all 


S6  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

distracting  and  busy  pursuits,  and  desires 
nothing  else  than  the  straight  course 
through  the  law,  and,  by  accomplishing  the 
straight  course,  to  follow  God.”  He  showed 
his  indifference  to  the  praise  of  the  ground- 
lings in  a practical  way  in  his  legislation  as 
regards  the  games.  He  put  restrictions 
on  the  gladiatorial  contests,  and  limited  the 
rates  of  allowance  to  the  stage  performers. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  Roman  people  the 
magnificence  of  the  games  and  public  shows 
was  the  one  test  of  munificence.  Hence  it 
was  something  to  have  checked  those  de- 
grading spectacles,  but  here,  as  afterwards 
in  his  persecution  of  the  martyrs,  he  yielded 
complaisance  to  conventional  views.  He 
lacked  the  strength  of  will  to  enforce  his 
own  ideals  ; and  perhaps  it  was  as  well  that 
he  recognised  his  deficiency  and  did  not 
attempt  what  was,  for  one  of  his  calibre, 
the  impossible.  On  great  occasions,  to 
please  his  colleague  Lucius  or  his  wife 
Faustina,  or  in  deference  to  the  popular 
wishes,  he  used  to  attend  these  shows  in 
state.  But  when  he  was  present  there  was 
to  be  no  shedding  of  human  blood,  at  any 
rate  by  a fellow-man,  though  he  seems  to 
have  allowed  the  fights  with  the  beasts. 
Dion  Cassius  records  this  fact : “ The 
Emperor  Marcus  was  so  far  from  taking 
delight  in  spectacles  of  bloodshed,  that 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  87 


even  the  gladiators  in  Rome  could  not 
obtain  his  inspection  of  their  contests, 
unless,  like  the  wrestlers,  they  contended 
without  imminent  risk  ; for  he  never  allowed 
the  use  of  sharpened  weapons,  but  univer- 
sally they  fought  before  him  with  weapons 
blunted.” 

He  himself,  even  when  presiding,  took 
little  interest  in  the  contests.  He  spent  his 
time  in  reading  or  writing  or  transacting 
official  business,  giving  audiences  or  signing 
State  papers,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the 
populace.  They  hated  such  superior  refine- 
ment and  would  have  preferred  a sportsman 
to  a philosopher  as  their  ruler.  They  looked 
on  the  Emperor  as  a milksop,  not  altogether 
without  reason,  though  the  right  reason 
was  not  their  reason.  He  showed  his  con- 
tempt for  their  opinions  on  one  occasion 
in  a most  emphatic  manner.  A lion, 
trained  by  a slave  to  devour  human  beings, 
acquitted  himself  so  well  in  one  of  these 
spectaeles  in  the  Emperor’s  presence  that 
the  whole  amphitheatre  rang  with  applause, 
and  on  every  side  a shout  was  raised  that 
a slave  who  had  served  the  people’s  pleasures 
so  well,  deserved  freedom.  The  Emperor, 
angered  at  the  brutality  which  he  could  not 
prevent,  had  averted  his  eyes,  and  now 
replied,  “ The  man  has  done  nothing  worthy 
of  liberty.”  Another  anecdote  shows  his 


38  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

care  for  even  the  most  outcast  of  his  subjects 
— those  whom  the  ordinary  Roman  valued 
and  heeded  less  than  the  beasts  of  burden. 
He  was  present  one  day  at  an  exhibition  of 
rope-dancing,  when  suddenly  one  of  the 
performers — a boy — missed  his  footing,  fell 
into  the  arena  and  was  hurt.  Thereupon 
the  Emperor  ordered  that  nets  and 
mattresses  should  always  be  spread  beneath 
the  rope-walkers. 

Despite  these  attempts — ^feeble  they  seem 
and  few — at  amelioration  and  at  instilling 
a higher  view  of  human  nature,  the  amphi- 
theatre still  remained  “ the  great  slaughter- 
house.” When  we  look  at  Marcus’  statue 
high  in  the  Pantheon  of  the  Positivists,  we 
must  I’emember  another  figure,  cold  and 
abstracted  indeed,  but  thus  all  the  more 
convicted  of  feebleness,  under  the  awning 
and  the  perfume  sprays  and  flowers  of  the 
Roman  amphitheatre  looking  on  with  im- 
passive toleranoe  at  the  spectacle  of  human 
and  animal  suffering,  the  daily  bread  of  the 
most  brutal  of  all  populaces.  True,  he  could 
soothe  his  soul  by  a Stoic  aphorism  on  the 
nothingness  of  pain,  or  some  other  such 
mockery  of  human  misery — ^the  necessary 
refuge  of  those  who  had  no  certainty  of  a 
larger  hope.  For  mockery  truly  must  any 
solution  of  the  problem  of  evil  be,  and  vain 
comfort,  which  was  not  written  on  Calvary. 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  89 


That  Marcus  could  look  on  such  suffering 
unmoved ; that  he  could  order  it  for  his 
fellow-man  when  the  turn  of  the  Christians 
came ; this  removes  him  from  what  Chris- 
tians look  for  in  their  leaders  to  the  land  of 
Promise.  It  mattered  little  that  he  did  not 
take  the  delight  and  interest  which  Faustina, 
seated  by  strange  irony  among  the  Vestal 
Virgins,  robed  in  all  the  magnificence  which 
the  Via  Nova  could  produce,  took  in  her 
favourite  gladiators ; or  which  Commodus, 
the  centre  of  the  fastest  group  of  young 
Roman  nobles,  manifested  at  every  thrust, 
eager  for  the  day  when  he  himself  could 
enter  the  arena  as  Emperor  and  fight  with 
the  beasts.  The  mere  fact  that  he  could 
countenance  such  brutality  condemns  him 
to  the  level  of  conventional  mediocrity. 

As  Pater  says : “ Those  cruel  amuse- 
ments were,  certainly,  the  sin  of  blindness, 
of  deadness  and  stupidity.  . . . Yes  1 

what  was  needed  was  the  heart  that  would 
make  it  impossible  to  witness  all  this  ; and 
the  future  would  be  with  the  forces  that 
could  beget  a heart  like  that.  . . . Surely 
evil  was  a real  thing,  and  the  wise  man 
wanting  in  the  sense  of  it,  where  not  to  have 
been,  by  instinctive  election,  on  the  right 
side  was  to  have  failed  in  life.” 

The  humanity  of  the  age,  though  unable 
to  effect  any  appreciable  reform  of  the 


40  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

amphitheatre,  did  much  for  the  relief  of  the 
sick.  The  great  plague  brought  back  from 
the  East  by  Lucius  Verus  and  his  troops 
was  ravaging  the  Empire.  It  has  been  com- 
pared to  the  great  plague  of  Athens,  which 
will  live  for  ever  in  Thucydides’  vivid 
phrases,  and  to  the  Black  Death  of  the 
14th  century.  Niebuhr  says  that  it  was  a 
disaster  from  which  the  old  world  never 
recovered.  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  Italy,  and 
Gaul  were  darkened  by  its  passing  ; and  in 
Rome  itself,  so  Dio,  a Roman  senator,  tells 
us,  two  thousand  men  were  buried  every 
day.  A Golden  Age  ! An  age  of  peace  and 
happiness  indeed ! Rather  an  age  whose 
glory  is  that  it  was  an  age  of  hospitals,  of 
funeral  clubs  and  orphanages ; of  relief  of 
suffering  rather  than  freedom  therefrom. 

The  temples  of  iEsculapius,  the  god  of 
healing,  had  long  been  used  as  a kind  of 
hospital  for  the  sick,  but  never  before  to 
such  an  extent  as  in  the  Antonine  age. 
The  priests  of  this  god  were  initiated  into  a 
secret  medical  lore.  His  temples  could  vie 
with  the  great  medieval  monasteries  in  the 
scenic  beauty  and  salubrity  of  their  sur- 
roundings. The  excellence  of  the  climate, 
the  traditional  lore,  the  healthy  diet  and  more 
healthy  abstinence,  the  careful  nursing  and 
the  freshness  and  brightness  of  the  surround- 
ings, were  really  efficacious  remedies.  Thus, 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  41 


those  who  laboured  under  any  illness  came 
far  and  near  to  the  most  famous  shrines, 
such  as  that  of  Epidaurus,  whose  ruins  still 
remain  as  a silent  witness  of  its  whilom 
greatness.  Their  hope  was  that  they 
would  be  favoured  with  a dream  or  vision 
from  the  kindly  god  as  to  the  remedy  for 
their  disease.  The  career  of  Aristeides, 
wandering  for  thirteen  years  with  fanatical 
enthusiasm  from  shrine  to  shrine  till  finally 
he  was  cured,  shows  to  what  extremes 
superstition  carried  some  of  those  devotees. 
On  one  occasion  while  suffering  from  a fever, 
he  thought  he  had  a vision  of  the  god  bidding 
him  bathe  in  the  ice-cold  water,  and  then 
run  a mile,  and  he  carried  out  this  and  many 
other  such  assuredly  unearthly  remedies 
despite  the  dissuasions  of  the  priests. 
These  priests,  the  neocoroi,  used  to  inter- 
pret the  dream,  and  the  prescriptions  were 
carried  out  by  medical  men  and  attendants. 
The  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  these  dream-sent 
prescriptions  was  not  confined  to  the  vulgar. 
Marcus  Aurelius  believed  that  he  himself 
had  been  cured  thus  ; and  his  wise  physician, 
Galen,  trusted  them.  Readers  of  Marius, 
the  Epicurean,  will  not  easily  forget  Pater’s 
description  of  Marius’  stay  in  the  Temple, 
nor  the  words  of  thanksgiving  addressed 
to  the  heaven-sent  dreams  which  he  puts 
on  his  lips  at  parting ; they  are  from  the 


42  THE  EMPEEOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

Asclepiadae  of  Aristeides  : “ O ye  children 
of  Apollo ! who  in  time  past  have  stilled 
the  waves  of  sorrow  from  many  people, 
lighting  up  a lamp  of  safety  before  those 
who  travel  by  sea  and  land,  be  pleased,  in 
your  great  condescension,  though  ye  be 
equal  in  glory  with  your  elder  brethren,  the 
Dioscuri,  and  your  lot  in  immortal  youth 
be  as  theirs,  to  accept  the  prayer,  which 
in  sleep  and  vision  ye  have  inspired.  Order 
it  aright,  I pray  you,  according  to  your 
loving  kindness  to  men.  Preserve  me  from 
sickness,  and  endue  my  body  with  such  a 
measure  of  health  as  may  suffice  it  for  the 
obeying  of  the  spirit,  that  I may  pass  my 
days  unhindered  and  in  quietness.” 

Thus  charity  and  culture  progressed 
under  the  Antonines.  So,  too,  did  industry 
and  trade,  which  brought  with  them  pros- 
perity and  its  attendant  luxury  until  the 
advent  of  plague  and  famine.  We  are  told 
that  each  year  the  treasures  of  the  East 
were  brought  by  a fleet  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  vessels  to  the  ports  of  the  Red  Sea, 
to  be  transferred  thence  through  Alexandria 
to  Rome.  The  silks  of  China,  the  spices 
and  perfumes  of  India  and  Arabia,  pearls 
and  diamonds,  which  were  to  glitter  on  the 
togas  of  young  nobles  or  round  the  necks 
of  fair  ladies  in  the  Vicus  Tuscus,  formed 
the  precious  cargo.  In  return  for  these 


A PHILOSOPHER  ON  THE  THRONE  48 


Rome  sent  annually  three-quarters  of  a 
million  pounds — worth  several  times  that 
amount  now.  “ The  coast  of  Malabar  and 
the  island  of  Ceylon  grew  rich  as  trade 
emporia  for  the  luxuries  of  Rome  and  Roman 
merchants  penetrated  the  East  as  consuls 
of  sensuality  for  the  senators  and  the 
‘ friends  ’ of  Caesar.” 

All  this  led  to  softening  and  decadence 
in  the  army  and  in  the  nation.  With  the 
blessings  of  peace  there  came  also  its  vices  ; 
the  advances  in  prosperity  and  humanity, 
such  as  it  was,  was  not  accompanied  by 
any  improvement  in  morals,  but  perhaps 
the  reverse.  The  results  of  Marcus’  reign 
did  not  justify  Plato’s  expectation  from 
the  philosopher-king.  What  Marcus  might 
have  accomplished  under  less  unfavourable 
circumstances  we  cannot  surmise ; he 
certainly  had  not  the  strength  of  mind  or 
body  necessary  for  carrying  out  far-reaching 
reforms  in  such  an  Empire.  As  it  was,  he 
was  singularly  unfortunate  in  his  public 
life  : war,  plague  and  famine — a trinity 
which  no  State  could  resist — rendered  him 
powerless.  His  reign  left  little  outward 
impress  on  the  Roman  State ; his  greatest 
legacy  to  Rome  and  to  the  world  was  the 
development  of  humane  legislation,  the 
reverence  for  mind  above  matter,  and  the 
example  of  a disinterested  and  noble  ruler. 


CHAPTER  IV 


LIFE  IN  THE  PALACE 

There  is  much  truth  in  the  saying,  “ No 
man  is  a hero  to  his  valet  ” — be  his  reputed 
heroism  either  of  the  physical  or  the  moral 
type.  Humanity,  even  at  its  best,  is  an 
imperfect  thing,  much  in  need  of  the 
kindly  haze  which  mostly  veils  its  withered 
ruggedness ; and  many  an  angel  of  sweet- 
ness and  light  reveals  the  serpent’s  tail  on 
too  close  inspection ; but  I have  no  such 
revelation  to  offer  in  this  chapter.  Indeed, 
it  is  in  his  intimate  domestic  life  that  Marcus 
appears  to  best  advantage.  His  presence 
in  the  palace  brought  with  it  a sense  of 
restfulness,  of  serenity  and  calm,  of  mutual 
forbearance  and  love.  It  was  as  if  some 
pale  glimmer  of  the  Christian  love-light 
played  about  him  and  diffused  itself  over 
all  that  came  within  the  charmed  round. 
His  household  was  known  as  the  Sacra 
Domus — “the  sacred  house.”  Thus  the  Pax 
Romana — ^the  peace  that  was  the  gift  of 
the  Antonines — though  lost  to  the  Empire, 
was  never  interrupted  in  the  Emperor’s 
home ; and  to  Marcus  is  due  the  credit. 

44 


LIFE  IN  THE  PALACE 


45 


All  through  life  it  was  his  lot  to  consort 
with  persons  having  sadly  different  views 
from  his  own  on  the  meaning  of  existence,^ 
the  value  of  virtue ; yet  he  was  kind  and 
sociable  with  all.  In  this  he  did  but  follow 
the  example  of  the  gods  : “ They  are  not 
vexed  because,  during  so  long  a time,  they 
must  tolerate  men,  such  as  they  are,  and 
so  many  of  them  bad  ; and  besides  this  they 
also  take  care  of  them  in  all  ways.  But  thou, 
who  art  destined  to  end  so  soon,  art  thou 
wearied  of  enduring  the  bad,  and  this,  too, 
when  thou  art  one  of  them  ? ” This  toler- 
ance towards  the  failings  of  others  had  its 
source  in  his  peculiar  gospel  of  resignation  : 
— or  should  we  say,  fatalism  ? “ That  is  good 
for  each  thing  which  the  universal  nature 
brings  to  each.  And  it  is  for  its  good  at 
the  time  when  nature  brings  it.  ‘ The  earth 
loves  the  shower,’  and  ‘ the  solemn  aether 
loves,’  and  the  Universe  loves  to  make 
whatever  is  about  to  be.  I say  then  to  the 
Universe  : ‘ I love  as  thou  lovest.’  ” In 
this  spirit  he  bore  the  trials  of  his  domestic, 
as  of  his  public,  life ; keen  griefs  coming 
from  without  and  from  within ; and  the 
keenest  of  all  for  one  of  his  affectionate 
nature  were  those  of  his  own  household. 

Apollonius  had  taught  him  “ to  be  always 
the  same  in  sharp  pains,  and  on  the  occasion 
of  the  loss  of  a child  and  in  long  illness.” 


46  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

He  learnt  the  theory  of  indifference  to 
natural  affection ; but,  fortunately,  never 
the  practice.  The  severe  light  of  Stoicism 
was  softened  and  suffused  in  passing  through 
the  medium  of  his  gentle  nature  ; he  trusted 
the  reasons  of  the  heaxi;,  more  than  those 
of  the  pure  intellect.  If  Stoic  cosmopolitan- 
ism would  have  him  care  for  men  in  inverse 
proportion  to  their  nearness  to  him,  he 
must  depart  from  type  in  this.  To  his  wife 
Faustina,  to  his  children,  to  his  tutor 
Fronto  and  to  Fronto’s  children,  especially 
“ little  Gratia,”  he  was  genuinely  devoted. 

The  correspondence  with  Fronto,  if  too 
effusive  for  our  taste,  yet  shows  both  in 
their  best  light.  It  is  full  of  tender  refer- 
ences to  the  “ little  ones,”  their  joys  and 
their  ailments.  Fronto  wxites  to  the  Em- 
peror : “I  have  seen  the  little  ones — ^the 
pleasantest  sight  of  my  life  ; for  they  are  as 
like  yourself  as  could  possibly  be.  It  has 
well  repaid  me  for  my  journey  over  that 
slippery  road  and  up  those  steep  rocks  : 
for  I behold  you,  not  simply  face  to  face 
before  me,  but,  more  generously,  whichever 
way  I turned,  to  my  right  and  to  my  left. 
For  the  rest,  I found  them.  Heaven  be 
thanked,  with  healthy  cheeks  and  lusty 
voices.  One  was  holding  a slice  of  white 
bread,  like  a king’s  son ; the  other  a crust 
of  brown  bread,  as  becomes  the  offspring 


LIFE  IN  THE  PALACE 


47 


of  a philosopher.  I pray  the  gods  to  have 
both  the  sower  and  the  seed  in  their  keeping, 
to  watch  over  this  field  wherein  the  ears  of 
com  are  so  kindly  alike.  Ah  ! I heard,  too, 
their  pretty  voices,  so  sweet  that  in  the 
childish  prattle  of  one  and  the  other  I 
seemed  to  be  listening — yes  ! in  that  chirping 
of  your  pretty  chickens — to  the  limpid  and 
harmonious  notes  of  your  own  oratory. 
Take  care  ! You  will  find  me  growing  inde- 
pendent having  those  I could  love  in  your 
place  ; — ^love,  on  the  surety  of  my  eyes  and 
ears.”  The  Emperor  replies  with  equal 
affection  : “ I,  too,  have  seen  my  little  ones 
in  your  sight  of  them  : as  also  I saw  yourself 
in  reading  your  letter.  It  is  that  charming 
letter  which  forces  me  to  write  thus.”  Alas  ! 
Apollonius ; what  has  become  of  the  Stoic 
airadua  which  you  inculcated  with  such 
great  pains  ? The  spirit  indeed  was  willing, 
but  the  fiesh  was  weak ; and  so  the  good 
Emperor  cared  more  for  the  slender  breath 
of  life  that  kept  soul  and  body  together  in 
his  little  Annius  Verus  than  for  all  the  sub- 
lime mysticity  of  the  Weltseele — ^the  world- 
soul  of  the  Stoic  creed.  All  the  sadder  was 
the  early  death  of  his  children,  one  after 
another ; one  son  alone  being  left  to  him — 
Commodus,  his  successor  in  the  Empire — 
assuredly  not  the  fittest  to  survive.  ‘ ‘ Better 
that  he  had  never  been  bom,”  anyone  had 


48  THE  EMPEEOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

said,  except  he  who  had  most  right  of  all  to 
say  it.  But  for  Marcus,  whatever  was,  was 
right ; the  gods,  if  gods  there  were,  deter- 
mined all  things,  and  they  could  do  no 
wrong.  Commodus,  bright,  handsome,  im- 
pulsive, wayward,  fond  of  gladiators  and 
low  life,  found  the  teaching  of  Fronto  and 
his  father  little  to  his  taste.  He  was  more 
at  home  in  the  circus  and  the  amphitheatre 
than  in  the  lecture-room ; with  the  actors, 
the  archers  and  the  gladiators  and  the 
“ smart  set,”  which  Faustina  gathered  round 
her,  than  with  the  bearded  and  hooded 
sophists  and  rhetoricians  who  talked 
iyKpaTeia  (self-restraint)  and  avrdpKeia  (self- 
sufficiency)  in  the  palace  gardens. 

Bitter  as  must  have  been  his  disappoint- 
ment at  his  ill-success  with  Commodus,  there 
was  another  which  thrust  home  deeper. 
Ill-fame  had  long  been  gathering  round 
the  name  of  his  wife  Faustina — ^the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  the  Empire.  One  of  her 
vivacious  temperament,  more  Parisian  than 
Roman,  was  assuredly  ill-mated  with  the 
Stoic  Emperor,  whose  days  were  spent  in 
introspection ; their  union  was  “ the  great 
paradox  of  the  age.”  She  knew  no  law  but 
the  law  of  the  senses : while  he  was  ever 
guided  by  the  admirable  but  unamiable  call 
of  duty,  cold  as  the  beckoning  of  a star,  not 
soft  and  warm  as  the  sunlight  of  devotion. 


LIFE  IN  THE  PALACE 


49 


No  modem  belle  of  the  season  had  more  zest 
in  the  life  of  the  moment  than  she  had  ; 
whilst  he  lived  always  in  the  shadow  of  the 
wings  of  Death.  “ Since  it  is  possible  that 
thou  mayest  depart  from  life  this  very 
moment,  regulate  every  act  and  thought 
accordingly.”  Every  act  was  to  be  done 
“ with  forethought,  as  if  it  were  the  last  of 
thy  life.”  Yet,  different  as  they  were,  by 
a whole  heaven’s  breadth  in  character,  it 
is  to  the  credit  of  both  that  they  loved  one 
another.  The  rumours  that  assailed  her 
name  were  probably  in  great  part  the 
exaggerations  of  prurient  gossips,  though 
with  sufficient  foundation  to  make  them 
credible.  Whatever  their  truth,  the  Em- 
peror did  not  hearken  to  them.  Even  when 
they  became  the  property  of  the  stage  and 
he  himself  was  ridiculed  in  connexion  with 
them,  he  paid  no  heed.  In  the  first  book  of 
the  Meditations,  written  a few  years  before 
the  death  of  Faustina,  he  thanks  the  gods 
that  he  had  such  a wife,  “ so  obedient,  so 
affectionate,  so  simple.”  He,  too,  must  have 
felt  at  times  that  Caesar’s  wife  should  be 
above  suspicion,  but  his  kindly  nature  was 
ever  disposed  to  take  the  most  charitable 
view  of  things,  and  he  minded  little  the 
slanderous  tongues  of  men. 

“ Does  a man  gather  figs  from  thistles,  or 
grapes  from  thorns  ? ” — this  was  the  key- 
6 


50  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

note  to  his  philosophy  of  life — a strange 
fatalist  philosophy  it  too  often  was ; but  it 
served  to  lay  the  gibbering  spectres  that 
haunted  the  palace  of  the  Caesars.  After 
all,  Faustina,  associating  with  sailors  and 
gladiators  (even  if  the  worst  were  true), 
and  Commodus,  already  giving  free  reign  to 
his  passions  over  all  the  paths  of  license, 
were  but  acting  in  accordance  with  nature, 
“ just  as  the  fruit  trees  ” or  the  beasts  of 
the  forest.  Thus,  in  the  loneliness  of  his 
spirit,  would  Aurelius  reason,  with  an  in- 
dulgence to  the  shortcomings  (or  worse)  of 
others,  which  we  must  condemn  as  weak- 
ness. But  perhaps  it  was  owing  to  his  tact 
and  consideration  that  her  untamed  restless- 
ness carried  her  to  no  greater  excesses,  and 
that  Pater’s  words  are  true,  “ the  one  thing 
quite  certain  about  her,  besides  her  extraor- 
dinary beauty,  is  her  sweetness  to  himself.” 

One  of  his  biographers,  writing  under  the 
Emperor  Diocletian,  has  this  pious  reflec- 
tion on  the  story : “ Such  is  the  force  of 
daily  life  in  a good  ruler,  so  great  the  power 
of  his  sanctity,  gentleness,  and  piety,  that 
no  breath  of  slander  or  invidious  suggestion 
from  an  acquaintance  can  avail  to  sully  his 
memory.  In  short,  to  Antonine,  immutable 
as  the  heavens  in  the  tenor  of  his  own  life, 
and  in  the  manifestations  of  his  own  moral 
temper,  and  who  was  not  by  possibility 


LIFE  IN  THE  PALACE 


51 


liable  to  any  impulse  or  movement  of  change, 
on  any  alien  suggestion,  it  was  not  eventu- 
ally an  injury  that  he  was  dishonoured  by 
some  of  his  connexions ; on  him,  invulner- 
able in  his  oAvn  character,  neither  a harlot 
for  his  wife,  nor  a gladiator  for  his  son,  could 
inflict  a wound.  Then  as  now,  O sacred 
lord  Diocletian  ! he  was  reputed  a god ; 
not  as  others  are  reputed  but  specially  and 
in  a separate  sense,  and  with  a privilege  to 
such  worship  from  all  men  as  is  addressed 
to  his  memory  by  yourself,  who  often  breathe 
a wish  to  heaven  that  you  were  or  could 
be  such  in  life  and  merciful  disposition  as 
was  Marcus  Aurelius.” 

We  saw  that  even  Marcus’  integrity  could 
not  shield  his  household  from  the  taint  of 
scandal,  ever  mingling  with  the  divinity 
that  doth  hedge  a king  ; yet  the  life  of  that 
household  was  of  the  simplest  kind.  The 
Emperor’s  tastes  were  mostly  domestic — 
philosophy,  the  flne  arts  and  intercourse 
with  the  learned  world  around  him.  The 
palace  was  a museum  of  all  the  curious  and 
choice  things  of  every  land  gathered  to- 
gether by  Hadrian  and  preceding  Emperors  ; 
the  precious  and  luxurious  were  strewn  all 
around  in  Oriental  magnificence;  but  not 
for  long.  The  Emperor  had  learnt  from 
Antoninus  to  be  a king  without  the  trap- 
pings ; and  in  his  later  life  he  set  an  example 


boston  college  library 

CHLC;  'JiJT  hill,  MASS. 


52  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

truly  Platonic  to  all  future  monarchs  of 
private  detachment  for  the  sake  of  the 
public  good.  At  that  time  distress  became 
universal ; the  treasury  was  exhausted ; 
and  yet  money  was  wanted  for  the  wars  in 
the  North.  In  these  circumstances,  in  order 
to  avoid  all  further  taxation,  Marcus  put 
all  the  treasures  of  his  Roman  palaces  and 
country  villas  into  the  public  market. 
Jewels,  pictures,  furniture  of  rare  workman- 
ship ; dinner-services  of  gold  and  crystal ; 
murrhine  vases ; the  rich  hangings  and 
sumptuous  apparel  of  the  imperial  house- 
hold, including  even  the  wardrobe  of  silken 
robes,  interwoven  with  gold,  which  had  been 
his  wife’s  before  her  death  : all  these  objects, 
made  sacred  by  long  use  in  the  home  of  the 
divine  Caesars,  were  put  under  the  hammer 
and  fetched  fabulous  prices.  The  auction 
lasted  two  months.  The  novi  homines — the 
Roman  equivalent  for  our  nouveaux  riches — 
were  as  keen  as  would  be  a group  of  Ameri- 
cans at  an  auction  of  the  Vatican  contents. 
Thus  the  historic  palace  of  the  Caesars  was 
despoiled ; but  Marcus  was  content  while 
the  neighbouring  library  in  the  temple  of 
Apollo  remained  intact,  with  Fronto  and 
Rusticus  to  come  at  morning  and  evening 
and  walk  with  him  amidst  the  shrubberies 
of  the  Palatine  discoursing  on  the  great 
Greek  schools  of  Ionia,  of  Athens,  and  of 


LIFE  IN  TSE  palace 


S3 


Elea ; of  Democrites,  of  Plato,  Zeno  and 
Pythagoras  and  his  favourite  Epictetus. 

In  his  home,  as  in  public,  he  was  devoted 
to  the  old  religious  practices.  The  lararium 
— or  family  shrine — contained  statues  of  his 
favourite  gods,  one  of  his  own  Genius  (or 
spiritual  counterpart)  and  those  of  his 
favourite  philosophers  and  teachers.  Here 
he  would  offer  the  morning  sacrifice  with 
flowers  and  lights  and  incense,  and  beg  the 
favour  of  the  gods  for  himself  and  for  the 
Empire,  There  he  would  utter  a prayer  for 
the  wayward  Commodus  and  Faustina,  and 
for  the  courage  to  persevere  to  the  end  on 
his  own  steep  path.  “ Every  morning  I 
pray  for  Faustina,”  he  writes ; and  again  : 
“ My  mother’s  illness  leaves  me  not  a 
moment’s  rest ; and  now  Faustina’s  confine- 
ment is  approaching.  Well,  we  must  trust 
in  the  gods,”  In  all  this,  how  strange  the 
mixture  of  truth  and  falsehood ; of  crude 
superstition  and  a higher  light  breaking 
through  ; of  matter  and  spirit ; perhaps  even 
of  nature  and  grace  ; for  it  is  hard  not  to  see 
the  special  handiwork  of  God  in  these  fair 
works  of  the  spirit  world — who  will  set  limits 
to  His  mercy  and  power  ? or  who  will  nicely 
disentangle  the  strands  of  that  strange 
mesh-work,  a human  soul  ? St,  Clement 
of  Alexandria  and  St.  Augustine  saw 
in  those  pagan  heroes  those  who  were 


54  THE  EMPEEOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

to  prepare  the  way  of  the  Lord  and  make 
straight  His  paths.  “ Paganism  saw  at 
least  the  road  from  its  hill-top,”  said 
Augustine.  We  too  may  say  that  they  were 
not  far  from  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

Christo  iam  turn  venienti, 

Crede,  parata  via  est. 

“ Believe  me  even  then  the  path  was  made 
straight  for  Christ  already  on  His  way.” 
So  sang  the  Christian  Prudentius ; and  we 
sing,  Amen  ! Even  so.  Lord  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  V 


ON  THE  DANUBE 

A PRINCE  of  peace,  Marcus  Aurelius  was 
destined  by  the  irony  of  fate  to  live  most  of 
his  days  as  a leader  of  battles.  The  low 
rumbling  of  war  from  the  provinces  mingled 
discordantly  with  the  acclamations  which 
proclaimed  him  Princeps,  Rome’s  chief 
citizen  and  lord.  The  disturbances  in  Bri- 
tain and  on  the  Rhine  were  easily  quelled ; 
but  not  so  in  Parthia  or  on  the  Danube. 

Parthia  was  Rome’s  great  rival  in  the  old 
world.  More  than  once  had  the  captains 
of  that  mysterious  Eastern  kingdom  plucked 
the  laurels  from  Roman  brows  ; the  Roman 
eagle  had  brooded  in  captivity  in  Parthian 
dungeons ; and  had  been  released  not  by 
steel  but  by  gold.  On  the  succession  of 
Marcus,  King  Vologeses,  a man  with  all  the 
spirit  and  ambition  of  his  race,  determined 
to  secure  for  himself  the  neighbouring  king- 
dom of  Armenia.  The  Romans  resisted  and 
their  first  army  was  annihilated.  This 
defeat  was  quickly  followed  by  another ; 
the  Eastern  legions  were  demoralised,  and 
things  looked  grave  for  Rome. 

65 


56  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

It  was  at  this  crisis  that  Marcus  entrusted 
to  his  consort,  Lucius  Verus,  the  command 
in  the  East : a foolish  choice,  scarcely  less 
foolish  than  the  first  folly  of  making  him 
his  consort.  For  Lucius  had  neither  ability 
nor  morality  ; he  spent  his  days  amidst  the 
pleasant  groves,  the  flowers  and  the  per- 
fumes and  the  sensuous  society  of  Antioch. 
He  committed  the  campaign  to  the  care  of 
his  generals,  the  chief  of  them,  Avidius 
Cassius,  a soldier  tried  and  true ; whilst  he 
himself  frittered  away  his  hours  in  soft 
dalliance  amidst  the  ill-famed  groves  of 
Daphne,  which  made  Antioch  the  lodestone 
of  voluptuaries  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 
Avidius  Cassius  with  Priscus  and  Martius 
Verus  ended  the  war  within  a few  years ; 
and  Lucius  Verus  with  a heavy  heart  turned 
his  face  towards  the  West,  to  celebrate  a 
triumph  and  receive  high  titles  in  Rome  for 
his  great  achievements.  But  Rome  paid 
dearly  for  the  conquest ; for  with  the  army 
came  the  plague  which  devastated  the 
capital  and  Italy. 

In  the  desolation  which  surrounded  him 
the  Stoic  Emperor  recognised  the  need  for 
something  more  inspiring  than  the  maxims 
of  his  masters,  Zeno  and  Chrysippus.  The 
futility  of  such  chamber  philosophy  and 
religion  was  borne  home  to  him  with  fearful 
intensity  by  the  human  misery  he  saw  on 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


57 


every  side,  the  stench  of  the  unburied  dead, 
the  haggard  looks  and  demoniacal  cries  of 
the  living.  He  recognised,  then,  that  a 
syllogism  never  soothed  an  aching  heart ; 
that  for  life’s  tragic  moments  we  need  a 
living,  breathing,  throbbing,  thrilling,  re- 
ligion, a religion  of  the  whole  man.  Hence 
he  called  on  all  the  gods,  old  and  new, 
Roman,  Grecian,  Eastern  and  Egyptian,  to 
aid  the  suffering  State.  Every  altar  reeked 
with  the  incense  of  sacrifice ; great  nobles 
marched  in  procession  bearing  the  statues 
of  the  gods  ; noble  ladies  might  be  seen,  half- 
naked,  standing  beneath  the  platform  from 
which  the  hot  blood  of  the  slain  bull  poured 
down  upon  them,  enduring  this  baptism 
of  the  Great  Mother,  by  which  they  were  to 
be  “ reborn  for  eternity  ” ; at  eventide  a 
wanderer  in  the  Campus  Martius  might 
hear  the  vesper  song  of  Isis,  and  entering 
her  shrine  might  see  dark  Egyptians  holding 
up  the  water  of  the  Nile  for  adoration  ; or, 
descending  into  a subterranean  chapel,  he 
might  see  the  slave,  the  soldier,  and  the 
senator,  side  by  side,  attending  at  the 
strange  mystic  initiations  of  Mithra,  the 
Unconquered  One,  the  god  of  light,  the 
strong  young  god  in  Phrygian  cap  and  loose 
flowing  mantle  caught  by  the  sculptor 
in  the  symbolic  slaying  of  the  bull.  No 
extravagance  of  superstition,  however 


S8  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

fantastic,  was  omitted,  not  even  the  greatest 
extravaganee  of  all,  the  cry  of  “ the  Chris- 
tians to  the  lions.”  If  Aurelius  had  but 
known ; if  Rome  in  its  desolation  could 
have  seen  ; if  modern  Europe  and  its  rulers 
could  but  realise  the  secret  healing  of  Christ’s 
religion  of  sorrow,  how  much  the  world, 
laboured  and  heavy-burdened,  would  be 
refreshed  ! But  Marcus  did  not  know  this 
healing.  He  prayed  and  he  sacrificed  : but 
the  plague  did  not  pass,  nor  were  his  people 
comforted.  The  ancient  world  never  re- 
covered from  the  blow,  Niebuhr  says. 
While  it  yet  raged,  another  call  to  arms 
came,  this  time  from  the  Danube. 

It  was  the  severest  onset  of  the  bar- 
barians which  the  Roman  Empire  had  yet 
endured.  All  the  tribes  from  the  Rhine  to 
the  Don,  Teutonic  and  Slavonic,  seemed  in 
league  against  it.  These  wild  Northmen, 
chaste  and  strong  of  limb,  had  hurled  them- 
selves on  the  Danube  frontier  and  broken 
into  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  Pax  Romana. 
The  Danube  passed,  Pannonia,  Dacia, 
Greece  were  overrun.  The  prints  of  North- 
ern hoofs  were  on  the  plains  of  Rhsetia  and 
Noricum  ; and  the  wild  Marcomanni  were 
seen  in  the  streets  of  Venice  and  Padua. 
Well  might  the  Romans  fear  that  it  would 
be  with  them  now  as  it  was  in  the  days  of 
Hannibal.  Aye,  and  even  worse ; for  the 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


59 


Romans  of  the  second  century  of  the  Empire 
were  not  the  Romans  of  the  second  or  third 
century  before  the  fall  of  the  Republic ; 
and  to  replace  a Scipio  and  a Marcellus, 
they  had  for  leader  not  a Vespasian  or  a 
Trajan,  but  a sickly  “ Greekling,”  “ a 
philosophical  old  woman,”  as  Avidius 
Cassius  used  to  call  him.  This  was  their 
Emperor  Aurelius,  and  in  these  wars  on  the 
Danube  he  was  amply  to  refute  these 
taunts  of  the  men  of  rougher  mould.  His 
was  the  great  task  of  stemming  the  first 
inflow  of  those  nomadic  tribes  which,  two 
centuries  later,  swept  in  full  flood-tide  over 
the  Empire  ; and  he  performed  it  well  if  not 
greatly. 

The  heralds  of  the  revolt  found  him  at  his 
work  of  peace  and  legislation,  of  charity  and 
self-culture  in  the  capital.  Now  came  the 
test  of  his  principles  of  devotion  to  duty. 
Would  he  face  the  loneliness,  spiritual  and 
intellectual,  the  barbarity,  the  long-drawn 
desolation  of  a campaign  in  the  dull  plains 
of  Hungary  ? Would  he  be  a leader  to  his 
people  ? or  would  he,  like  certain  selfish 
souls,  wrap  himself  in  himself  and  seek  his 
own  advancement  towards  the  sapiency  of 
the  perfect  Stoic  at  the  cost  of  his  people  ? 
It  was  the  test  of  a man  ; and  he  answered 
well  to  it.  He  elected  to  lead  the  troops  in 
person. 


60  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

This  was  in  the  year  a.d.  167.  The 
Romans  were  just  then  busy  burying  their 
plague-stricken,  but  the  call  to  arms  would 
brook  no  delay ; and  to  arms  they  went. 
War,  the  plague,  and  the  Emperor’s 
charities  had  exhausted  the  treasury  ; hence 
the  difficulty  in  raising  supplies  and  a force. 
It  was  then  that  he  sold  by  auction  the 
treasures  of  the  palace  and  his  villas  and 
thus  secured  the  required  funds.  To  swell 
the  numbers  of  his  troops  he  compelled  the 
gladiators  to  serve.  This  was  the  most 
unpopular  act  of  his  reign  as  it  was  one  of 
the  most  creditable.  “ He  wants  to  steal 
our  amusements  from  us,”  cried  one;  “Aye, 
to  compel  us  to  be  philosophers,”  cried 
another  of  the  mob,  who  cared  for  nothing 
but  the  panem  et  circenses,  the  public  dole 
of  food  and  the  public  games.  The  sporting 
set,  the  loungers,  the  fast  young  men  about 
town,  the  brutalised  rabble,  almost  created 
a revolt  against  the  act.  They  cared  little 
for  the  Empire,  if  they  could  but  get  their 
meed  of  blood ; the  gladiators  were  better 
spent  in  glutting  their  evil  eyes  than  in 
checking  the  onrush  of  those  Wandering 
Nations,  who  were  one  day  to  sit  in  those 
amphitheatres  and  exult  over  fallen  Rome, 
having  changed  the  history  of  Europe  and 
the  world. 

The  two  Emperors  led  the  troops  in  all 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


61 


the  glory  of  warlike  array  through  the 
streets  of  Rome  to  the  Northern  gates. 
Aurelius,  as  he  rode  in  all  the  Imperial 
adornment,  yet  with  sad,  wistful  look  and 
countenance  sickled  o’er  with  the  pale  cast 
of  thought,  contrasted  ominously  with  the 
splendour  of  the  pageant  of  which  he  was 
the  centre.  He  seemed  to  be  far  away  from 
it  all — far  away,  yes,  in  the  depths  of  his 
own  soul.  On  one  side  of  him  rode  Lucius 
Verus,  resplendent  and  gay,  the  hero  of 
levees  and  banquets  ; on  the  other,  Faustina, 
now  as  ever  outshining  all  in  the  great 
functions  of  state,  her  beauty  making  her 
the  darling  of  the  mob.  Throughout  the 
war  she  abode  with  Marcus  faithfully  and 
was  called  by  the  army  the  Mater  castrorum, 
the  mother  of  the  camp  ; and  the  Emperor 
thanked  the  gods  for  the  solace  her  fidelity 
brought  to  him. 

The  army  reached  Venice  in  a.d.  168. 
Such  had  been  the  energy  of  their  prepara- 
tions that  a panic  seized  the  barbarian 
invaders.  They  begged  for  peace ; but 
Marcus  had  determined  that  there  should 
be  no  peace  or  a lasting  one  ; the  barbarians 
must  be  taught  a lesson  ; and  he  set  about 
subjugating  the  tribes  one  by  one.  In  this 
he  was  for  a time  successful,  thanks  mainly 
to  his  able  generals  Pompeianus  and 
Pertinax.  The  Quadi  were  compelled  to 


62  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

restore  the  60,000  Roman  prisoners  they 
had  taken ; and  in  a.d.  169  the  Emperors 
felt  justified  in  returning  to  Rome,  leaving 
the  completion  of  the  war  to  their  generals. 
On  the  way  Verus  died  and  this  left  Marcus 
sole  ruler.  At  Rome  he  paid  the  highest 
honours,  civil  and  religious,  to  his  colleague’s 
questionable  memory. 

His  stay  there  was,  however,  abruptly  cut 
short  as,  owing  to  the  acuteness  of  the  war 
with  the  Marcomanni  and  Jazyges,  he 
had  to  return  again  to  the  fighting  line. 
The  Romans  once  more  met  with  severe 
defeats.  Two  commanders  fell ; and  it  was 
not  till  A.D.  172  that  the  tide  of  victory 
turned.  In  that  year  the  Marcomanni 
suffered  an  overwhelming  defeat  and  the 
Emperor  assumed  the  title  Germanicus. 
But  in  the  meantime  the  Quadi  had  re- 
belled and  driven  out  their  king,  who  was 
a friend  of  the  Romans,  and  elected  one 
opposed  to  Rome.  Marcus  then  turned  his 
attention  to  these : he  set  a price  of  1,000 
pieces  of  gold  on  the  head  of  the  rebel  king  ; 
and  on  his  being  betrayed  sent  him  to 
Alexandria. 

During  one  of  these  campaigns  against 
the  Quadi  occurred  the  incident  of  the 
“ thundering  legion  ” — a story  famous  in 
the  early  Church  and  much  controverted. 
It  is  interesting  as  bringing  Marcus  and 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


63 


the  Christians  face  to  face  for  the  first 
time. 

It  was  during  the  hot  summer  months 
that  a legion  containing  many  Christians 
was  surrounded  by  the  Quadi  in  a wooded 
and  hilly  country.  They  were  cut  off  from 
all  means  of  getting  water,  and  suffered 
terribly  from  the  heat  and  thirst.  In  these 
straits,  the  story  goes  on  to  say,  the 
Christians  in  the  legion  knelt  and  prayed  for 
release  ; and  lo  ! suddenly  the  whole  heavens 
became  overcast ; a storm  gathered  and 
broke  over  the  opposing  forces  ; rain  fell 
abundantly  and  the  Romans  gathered  it  in 
their  helmets  and  in  the  hollows  of  their 
shields,  and  drank  eagerly  and  gave  to  drink 
to  their  horses.  The  barbarians  saw  that 
they  must  now  attack  before  the  Romans 
recovered  strength.  But  the  rain  which 
had  refreshed  the  Romans  turned  to  blinding 
hail  against  their  foes  ; and  the  rain  and  the 
lightning  “ burnt  them  like  oil  insomuch  as 
they  wounded  one  another  to  extinguish 
the  fire  with  blood.”  Many,  seeing  such 
evident  favour  from  heaven  for  the  Roman 
cause,  went  over  to  their  side  ; and  Marcus 
Aurelius  received  them  mercifully. 

There  are  many  controverted  points  in 
connexion  with  the  details  of  this  story, 
and  the  use  made  of  it  by  the  Christian 
apologists,  into  which  this  is  not  the  place 


64  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

to  enter.  Certain  it  is  that  this  Danube 
legion  got  the  title  of  Fulminata,  at  least  for 
some  time  ; even  though  the  twelfth  legion, 
to  whom  it  properly  belonged  since  the  time 
of  Augustus,  were  at  this  time  at  the 
Euphrates.  It  is  certain,  too,  that  everyone, 
pagan  and  Christian,  regarded  the  incident 
as  a miracle.  Some  attributed  it  to  the 
prayers  of  the  Emperor  himself,  and  this 
view  was  commemorated  in  bas-reliefs  of 
the  Antonine  column,  erected  after  death 
to  his  memory  and  to  be  seen  to  this  day. 
There  one  sees  represented  in  the  air  the 
winged  figure  of  an  old  man  with  streaming 
hair  and  beard,  the  god  of  rain,  Jupiter 
Pluvius ; while  the  Romans  with  helmets 
and  shields  receive  the  torrents  of  rain,  and 
their  enemies  lie  transfixed  to  the  ground 
by  the  hail  and  lightning.  Marcus  Aurelius 
himself  was  represented  in  pictures  with 
hands  uplifted  and  praying,  with  strange 
forgetfulness  of  his  barbarities  against  the 
Christians,  “ Jove  to  thee  do  I lift  this 
hand,  which  hath  never  shed  blood.”  Others 
attributed  this  miracle  to  the  Egyptian 
magician  Amouphis,  who  accompanied  the 
army. 

That  there  were  Christians  “ in  Caesar’s 
household  ” and  round  Marcus  Aurelius  is 
certain.  That  there  were  many  Christians 
in  this  legion  cannot  reasonably  be  denied. 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


65 


But  the  great  import  of  the  event  for  Ter- 
tullian  and  other  Christian  apologists,  before 
and  after  him,  was  based  on  a letter 
undoubtedly  apocryphal,  which  Marcus 
Aurelius  was  supposed  to  have  written  to 
the  Senate,  acknowledging  that  he  had  been 
saved  by  Christian  prayers  and  forbidding 
their  further  persecution. 

The  truth  is  that  Marcus’  attitude  to  the 
Christians  was  in  no  way  changed  for  the 
better  by  this  incident,  but  rather  for  the 
worse.  As  Renan  says  : In  three  or  four 
years  the  persecution  reached  the  highest 
pitch  of  fury  it  knew  before  Decius.”  In 
Africa  persecution  was  widespread  and 
furious  ; Sardinia  was  crowded  with  Chris- 
tian exiles  ; in  Byzantium  nearly  the  whole 
population  was  put  to  death  with  torture  ; 
while  in  Asia,  where  the  Christians  were 
especially  numerous,  officials  vented  all  their 
fury  on  them,  interpreting  the  laws  in  a way 
in  which  they  had  never  been  intended  to 
be  applied.  ‘‘  Truly,”  to  quote  Renan  again, 
“ these  repeated  persecutions  were  a bloody 
contradiction  to  a century  of  humanity.” 
Marcus  was  not  directly  responsible  for  all 
this  cruelty ; he  was  probably  for  the  most 
part  passive  and  indifferent.  Some  of  the 
Christian  apologists  certainly  looked  on  him 
as  friendly,  as,  for  instance,  Melito,  who 
wrote  to  him : “As  for  y’ourself,  who 
6 


66  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

cherish  the  same  kind  of  feeling  for  us  [as 
the  other  good  Emperors],  with  a heightened 
degree  of  philanthropy  and  philosophy,  we 
rest  assured  that  you  will  do  what  we  ask 
you.”  But  the  confidence  of  the  Christians 
in  Marcus’  humanity  and  friendship  for 
them  and  in  his  ability  to  restrain  the  pagan 
mob  or  his  own  more  brutal  officials  was 
ill-founded.  This  passing  incident  in  the 
Danube  campaign  was  of  little  importance 
in  the  history  of  the  Empire,  but  its  interest 
will  never  die  as  a picturesque  detail  in  the 
great  world-battle  of  the  spirit  then  in  its 
a cutest  stage. 

In  A.D.  175  Marcus  followed  up  his 
reduction  of  the  Quadi  by  that  of  the 
Jazyges.  This  practically  ended  the  war. 
Marcus  intended  securing  the  fruit  of  his 
conquest  by  establishing  two  more  Roman 
provinces  ; but  a new  danger  had  appeared 
in  the  East,  and  he  had  to  conclude  a hasty 
peace  with  the  barbarians  and  to  hurry 
with  all  speed  to  Syria. 

These  victories  in  the  North  stirred  in 
him  no  pride.  Here  is  his  sadly  disillusioned 
comment  on  the  whole  campaign : “A 
spider  is  proud  when  it  has  caught  a fly, 
and  a hunter  when  he  has  caught  a poor 
hare,  and  another  when  he  has  taken  a little 
fish  in  a net,  and  another  when  he  has  taken 
wild  boars,  and  another  when  he  has  taken 


ON  THE  DANUBE 


67 


Sarmatians.  Are  not  these  robbers,  if  thou 
examinest  their  principles?” 

He  can  scarcely  have  been  an  inspiring 
general  who  took  this  view  of  war  ; and  such 
sentiments  have  caused  many  active  spirits 
to  find  him  a very  dull  person  indeed.  After 
this  we  can  scarcely  wonder  at  the  remark 
of  one  of  his  generals : “ The  soldiers  don’t 
understand  you ; they  don’t  know  Greek.” 
In  the  frieze  on  the  Antonine  column  which 
represents  him  on  horseback,  surrounded 
by  banners  and  triumphant  soldiers,  re- 
ceiving the  submission  of  the  kneeling 
Germans,  there  is  the  same  disenchantment 
in  his  eyes,  the  same  firm  lines  of  duty  on 
the  lips  ; there  is  no  flash  of  enthusiasm, 
no  gloating  over  the  fallen.  He  seems  ab- 
sorbed in  the  thought  that  all  is  vanity,  and 
the  vanquished  look  at  him  with  a puzzled, 
interested  look  which  has  something  of 
affection  in  it. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  BOOK  OF  MEDITATIONS 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  active  strife  that 
Marcus  wrote  one  of  the  most  introspec- 
tive and  peaceful  of  books — his  Thoughts 
About  Himself  (t^  eh  eavrov  — the 

twelve  books  of  his  Meditations.  Few 
books  have  had  such  influence  over  men’s 
lives,  and  its  influence  still  abides  ; and  for 
all  students  of  humanity  it  will  ever  be  a 
priceless  document  illustrative  of  one  great 
phase  of  human  thought,  and  one  great 
thinker.  Surely  Stevenson,  testifying  to 
the  moulding  force  of  this  little  book  on  his 
own  life,  did  not  exaggerate  in  saying : 
“ The  dispassionate  gravity,  the  noble  forget- 
fulness of  self,  the  tenderness  of  others  that 
are  there  expressed,  and  were  practised  on 
so  large  a scale  in  the  life  of  its  writer, 
make  this  book  a book  quite  by  itself.  No 
man  can  read  it  and  not  be  moved.  . . . 
When  you  have  read,  you  carry  away  with 
you  a memory  of  the  man  himself ; it  is  as 
though  you  had  touched  a loyal  heart, 
looked  into  brave  eyes  and  made  a noble 
friend ; there  is  another  bond  on  you 
68 


THE  BOOK  OF  MEDITATIONS 


69 


thenceforward,  binding  you  to  life  and  to 
the  love  of  virtue.” 

The  secret  of  this  charm  and  influence  is 
in  the  candour  and  utter  absence  of  self- 
consciousness  of  the  book.  It  reveals  the 
author  as  he  wished  himself  to  live,  a sincere 
and  open  life,  “lived  on  the  mountain  top — 
a naked  soul  more  visible  than  the  body 
which  clothed  it,”  a soul  whose  thoughts 
may  be  read  “ as  the  beloved  one  reads  all 
things  in  the  lover’s  eyes.”  These  jottings 
were  the  fruit  of  his  frequent  searchings  of 
the  heart,  the  outward  expression  of  the 
inner  life  of  one  who  seemed  to  live  all 
within,  with  now  and  then  some  golden 
gleanings  from  his  favourite  moralists. 
These  thoughts  he  meant  to  be  his  strength 
against  the  beggarly  elements  in  his  weaker 
moments.  They,  with  the  Discourse  of 
Epictetus,  were  to  be  his  mainstay.  This 
latter  book — a noble  book  too — ^was  his 
a Kempis,  and  to  it  he  owed  the  suggestion 
of  gathering  together  his  own  thoughts. 
Having  these  he  bore  his  cloister  always 
with  him. 

“ Men  seek  retreats  for  themselves,  houses 
in  the  country,  sea-shores  and  mountains  ; 
and  thou  too  art  wont  to  desire  such 
things  very  much.  But  this  is  altogether  a 
mark  of  the  most  common  sort  of  men,  for 
it  is  in  thy  power,  whenever  thou  shalt 


70  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

choose,  to  retire  into  thyself.  For  nowhere 
either  with  more  quiet  or  more  freedom  from 
trouble  does  a man  retire  than  into  his  own 
soul,  particularly  when  he  has  within  him 
such  thoughts  that,  by  looking  into  them, 
he  is  immediately  in  perfect  tranquillity  ; 
and  I affirm  that  tranquillity  is  nothing  else 
than  the  good  ordering  of  the  mind.  Con- 
stantly then  give  to  thyself  this  retreat  and 
renew  thyself ; and  let  thy  principles  be 
brief  and  fundamental,  which,  as  soon  as 
thou  shalt  recur  to  them,  will  be  sufficient 
to  cleanse  the  soul  completely,  and  to  send 
thee  back  free  from  all  discontent  with  the 
things  to  which  thou  returnest.” 

“ For  with  what  art  thou  discontented  ? ” 
he  asks  himself.  The  badness  of  men  ? 
The  lot  that  is  assigned  to  thee  out  of  the 
universe  ? The  clinging  of  corporal  things 
still  to  thee  ? The  desire  of  the  thing  called 
fame  ? Thou  hast  maxims  that  will 
alleviate  all  these.  “ This  then  remains. 
Remember  to  retire  into  this  little  territory 
of  thine  own,  and  above  all  do  not  distract 
or  strain  thyself,  but  be  free  and  look  at 
things  as  a man,  as  a human  being,  as  a 
citizen,  as  a mortal.  But  amongst  the  things 
readiest  to  thy  hand  to  which  thou  shalt 
return,  let  there  be  these,  which  are  two : 
One  is  that  things  do  not  touch  the  soul,  for 
they  are  external  and  immovable  ; but  our 


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perturbations  come  only  from  the  opinion 
which  is  within.  The  other  is  that  all  these 
things  which  thou  seest  change  immediately 
and  will  no  longer  be  ; and  constantly  bear 
in  mind  how  many  of  these  changes  thou 
hast  already  witnessed.  The  Universe  is 
transformation  ; life  is  opinion.” 

In  these  last  sentences  we  have  the  kernel 
of  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  resignation. 

“ The  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  in  itself 
Can  make  a heaven  of  hell,  a hell  of 
heaven.” 

The  mind  can  weave  its  own  Universe  ; and 
with  it  it  rests  to  weave  it  a fairyland  of 
ordered  goodness  and  beauty.  All  things 
without  are  fleeting  and  unstable,  shadows 
that  will  pass,  mists  that  disappear  at  dawn. 
“ There  is  nothing  either  good  or  bad  but 
thinking  makes  it  so.”  “ The  aids  to  nobler 
life  are  all  within.”  Man  is  but  part  of  the 
Universe,  and  his  best  wisdom  is  to  live  in 
accord  with  its  beautiful  harmony,  which 
disposes  all  things  sweetly  for  the  good  of 
all.  It  would  be  contrary  to  the  Divine 
Kosmos,  the  ordering  of  the  great  world- 
spirit,  if  what  were  for  the  good  of  all  were 
not  for  the  good  of  each  : 

“ If  the  gods  have  determined  about  me 
and  about  the  things  which  must  happen 
to  me,  they  have  determined  well,  for  it  is 


72  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

not  easy  even  to  imagine  a deity  without 
forethought ; and  as  to  doing  me  any  harm, 
why  should  they  have  any  desire  towards 
that  ? For  what  advantage  would  result 
to  them  from  this,  or  to  the  whole,  which  is 
the  special  object  of  their  providence  ? 
But  if  they  have  not  determined  about  me 
individually,  they  have  certainly  deter- 
mined about  the  whole  at  least,  and  the 
things  which  happen  by  way  of  sequence  in 
this  general  arrangement  I ought  to  accept 
with  pleasure  and  to  be  content  with  them. 
But  if  they  determine  about  nothing, 
which  it  is  wicked  to  believe,  or  if  we  do 
believe  it,  let  us  neither  sacrifice,  nor  pray, 
nor  swear  by  them,  nor  do  anything  else 
which  we  do  as  if  the  gods  were  present  and 
lived  with  us — but  if,  however,  the  gods 
determine  about  none  of  those  things  which 
concern  us,  I am  able  to  determine  about 
myself,  and  I can  inquire  about  that  which 
is  useful ; and  that  is  useful  to  each  man 
which  is  conformable  to  his  own  constitution 
and  nature.  But  my  nature  is  rational  and 
social ; my  city  and  country  so  far  as  I am 
Antoninus  is  Rome,  but  so  far  as  I am  a man 
it  is  the  world.  The  things  then  that  are 
useful  to  these  eities  are  alone  useful  to  me.” 

All  this  is  very  beautiful ; it  is  admirable  ; 
but  it  is  not  human.  An  abstract  idea  never 
ministered  to  a mind  diseased  or  healed  a 


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broken  heart ; and  when  all  is  said  the 
Stoic  Weltanschauung  is  a sad  one.  As 
Arnold  felt  many  have  felt : “It  is  impos- 
sible to  rise  from  reading  Epictetus  or 
Marcus  Aurelius  without  a sense  of  con- 
straint and  melancholy,  without  feeling 
that  the  burden  laid  upon  man  is  well-nigh 
greater  than  he  can  bear.”  But  we  must 
add  with  him  : “ Honour  to  the  sages  who 
have  felt  this,  and  yet  have  borne  it.”  For 
ourselves  we  feel  a need  of  something  more 
personal,  something  with  more  love  and 
sympathy  and  appeal.  How  chilling  are  the 
maxims  of  the  Porch  beside  the  glowing 
verses  of  the  Apostle  of  Love,  which  express 
the  essence  of  Christianity — an  intense 
personal  love  for  God,  an  acceptance  of  all 
trials  from  a motive  of  love,  and  a love 
of  our  neighbour  like  unto  the  love  God 
bears  them. 

This  was  the  Christian  answer  to  all  the 
ancient  philosophies — the  solution  of  the 
world-problem  by  love ; and  neither  in 
Marcus  Aurelius  nor  Plotinus  nor  any  of  the 
great  pagans  do  we  find  anything  at  once 
so  human  and  divine,  anything  which  so 
responds  to  the  noblest  aspirations  of  the 
human  soul  without  losing  sight  of  its 
weakness. 

But  it  is  not  the  formal  doctrine  of  the 
book  of  the  Meditations  which  gives  it  its 


74  THE  EMPEROE  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

attraction ; it  is  the  spirit  of  the  author  it 
reveals  so  intimately.  Rarely  do  we  get 
from  philosophers  such  familiar  self-revela- 
tion as  this  from  the  beginning  of  the  fifth 
book  : interesting,  even  though  it  suggests 
a lack  of  humour  and  sense  of  proportion  : 

“ In  the  morning  when  thou  risest  un- 
willingly, let  this  thought  be  present — I 
am  rising  to  the  work  of  a human  being. 
Why  then  am  I dissatisfied  if  I am  going  to 
do  the  things  for  which  I exist  and  for 
which  I was  brought  into  this  world  ? Or  have 
I been  made  for  this,  to  lie  in  the  bed-clothes 
and  keep  myself  warm  ? But  this  is  more 
pleasant — Dost  thou  exist  then  to  take 
thy  pleasure  and  not  at  all  for  action  or 
exertion  ? Dost  thou  not  see  the  little  plants, 
the  little  birds,  the  ants,  the  spiders,  the 
bees,  working  together  to  put  in  order  their 
several  parts  of  the  Universe  ? And  art  thou 
unwilling  to  do  the  work  of  a human  being, 
and  dost  thou  not  make  haste  to  do  that 
which  is  according  to  thy  nature  ?”  Imagine 
the  sight  of  a spider  rousing  a sluggard  ! 

And  again  in  the  same  book : 

“ Thou  sayest.  Men  cannot  admire  the 
sharpness  of  thy  wits.  Be  it  so  ; but  there 
are  many  other  things  of  which  thou  canst 
not  say,  I am  not  formed  for  them  by  nature. 
Show  those  qualities  then  which  are  al- 
together in  thy  power,  sincerity,  gravity, 


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endurance  of  labour,  aversion  to  pleasure, 
contentment  with  thy  portion  and  with  few 
things,  benevolence,  frankness,  no  love  of 
superfluity,  freedom  from  trifling  magnan- 
imity. Dost  thou  not  see  how  many  quali- 
ties thou  art  immediately  able  to  exhibit, 
in  which  there  is  no  excuse  of  natural  in- 
capacity and  unfitness,  and  yet  thou  still 
remainest  voluntarily  below  the  mark  ? or 
art  thou  compelled  through  being  defectively 
furnished  by  nature  to  murmur,  and  to  be 
stingy,  and  to  flatter  and  to  find  fault  with 
thy  poor  body,  and  to  try  to  please  men, 
and  to  make  great  display,  and  to  be  restless 
in  thy  mind  ? No,  by  the  gods  ; but  thou 
mightest  have  been  delivered  from  these 
things  long  ago.  Only  if  in  truth  thou  canst 
be  charged  with  being  rather  slow  and  dull 
of  comprehension,  thou  must  exert  thyself 
about  this  also,  not  neglecting  it  nor  yet 
taking  pleasure  in  thy  dullness.” 

Stoic  optimism  can  scarcely  be  said  to 
have  solved  the  mysteries  of  evil  and  the 
unrest  of  the  soul,  or  satisfied  the  craving 
for  happiness,  for  guidance  and  support 
which  is  deep  down  in  every  heart.  Yet 
the  followers  of  that  school  were  a good 
influence  on  a corrupt  world.  We  feel  in  all 
the  book  of  the  Meditations  a calm  strength, 
a forbearance,  a perseverance  despite 
failure  in  good  resolutions,  which  does  all 


76  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

honour  to  its  author  living  in  the  most 
sensual  surroundings.  And  in  Marcus  this 
stem  character  is  relieved  by  touches  of 
tender  affection  and  gratitude  constantly 
recurring.  They  reveal  a character  far 
inferior  to  that  of  the  Christian  Saint ; no- 
body except  some  of  our  neo-pagan  para- 
doxists  will  look  for  such  perfection  in  him  ; 
the  marvel  is  that  he  so  often  reminds  us  of 
them  and  approaches  them  even  afar.  In 
none  of  those  pagan  heroes  do  we  find  that 
blending  of  strength  and  humility,  of 
austerity  and  gentlest  love,  that  touch  of 
the  Light  Divine  and  that  reflex  of  Christ, 
which  remove  a St.  Francis  de  Sales  or  a 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul  a whole  heaven’s  breadth 
from  them  and  make  it  an  irreverence  to 
compare  the  one  to  the  other. 

But  we  do  find  wonderful  things  in  them. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  nine  considerations 
which  Marcus  proposed  for  himself  as  an 
aid  to  bearing  with  those  who  had  offended 
him ; they  are  given  in  the  eleventh  book, 
and  the  second  of  them  well  shows  the 
imperfection  inseparable  from  pagan  virtue, 
even  the  highest : (1)  All  men  are  bom  for 
one  another.  (2)  Consider  the  private  vices 
of  those  that  have  offended  thee.  (3)  If 
they  do  wrong  it  is  involuntarily  and  in 
ignorance.  (4)  Thou  also  doest  many  things 
wrong,  and  thou  art  a man  like  others ; and 


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even  if  thou  dost  abstain  from  certain 
faults  still  thou  hast  the  disposition  to 
commit  them,  though  either  through 
cowardice  or  concern  about  reputation  or 
some  sueh  mean  motive  thou  dost  abstain 
from  sueh  faults.  (5)  You  may  be  judging 
them  rashly.  (6)  “ Man’s  life  is  only  a 
moment,  and  after  a short  time  we  are  all 
laid  out  dead.”  (7)  Your  annoyanee  is  due 
not  to  those  aets  but  to  your  own  impres- 
sions. (He  says  elsewhere  : “ How  easy  it 
is  to  repel  and  to  wipe  away  every  impres- 
sion which  is  troublesome  or  unsuitable,  and 
immediately  to  be  in  all  tranquillity.”) 
(8)  Anger  and  vexation  are  a greater  evil 
than  the  thing  which  causes  them.  (9)  One 
of  the  most  amiable  passages  in  the  Medita- 
tions : “ Consider  that  benevolence  is  in- 
vincible if  it  be  genuine,  and  not  an  affected 
smile  and  acting  a part.  For  what  will  the 
most  violent  man  do  to  thee  if  thou  con- 
tinuest  to  be  of  a benevolent  disposition 
towards  him,  and  if,  as  opportunity  offers, 
thou  gently  admonishest  him  and  calmly 
correctest  his  errors  at  the  very  time  when 
he  is  trying  to  do  thee  harm,  saying.  Not  so, 
my  child  : we  are  constituted  by  nature  for 
something  else : I shall  certainly  not  be 
injured,  but  thou  art  injuring  thyself,  my 
child — and  show  him  with  gentle  tact  and  by 
general  principles  that  this  is  so,  and  that 


78  THE  EMPEROE  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

even  bees  do  not  do  as  he  does,  nor  any 
animals,  which  are  formed  by  nature  to  be 
gregarious.  And  thou  must  do  this  neither 
with  any  double  meaning  nor  in  way  of 
reproach,  but  affectionately  and  without 
any  rancour  in  thy  soul ; and  not  as  if  thou 
wert  lecturing  him,  nor  yet  that  any  by- 
stander may  admire,  but  when  he  is  alone.” 
Again  he  asks  himself  what  have  the  evil 
deeds  of  others  to  do  with  the  intellect’s 
abiding  pure,  self-possessed,  temperate,  and 
just.  Nothing  at  all : “ Even  as  if  one 
standing  by  a sweet  and  transparent 
fountain  were  to  utter  abuse  against  it,  and 
it  ceased  not  to  pour  forth  its  salutary 
waters.  And  if  one  cast  mud  or  filth  therein, 
it  would  speedily  dissipate  and  wash  it 
away,  and  would  in  no  wise  be  stained  by  it. 
How  shalt  thou  be  an  ever-flowing  spring, 
and  not  a cistern  ? Grow  every  hour  into 
freedom,  united  with  gentleness,  simplicity 
and  modesty.” 

The  view  of  his  fellow-men  which  Marcus 
expresses  is  a curious  mixture  of  charity,  pity, 
and  contempt.  He  frequently  strengthened 
himself  against  human  respect  by  consider- 
ing that  the  evil  lives  of  other  men  made 
their  opinion  contemptible.  These  passages 
seem  to  reveal  a nature  tinged  with  spiritual 
pride  and  aloofness.  He  insists  time  and 
again  on  the  fellowship  of  men,  as  fellow- 


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79 


citizens  of  one  great  polity : but  he  has  a 
profound  sense  of  their  folly  and  baseness 
too.  Yet  his  lonely  nature  craved  for  friend- 
ship with  kindred  souls,  though  seemingly 
fastidious  in  its  friendship.  With  his  de- 
tached attitude  towards  his  fellow-men  it  is 
little  wonder  that  he  had  but  few  friends; 
and  he  was  conscious  of  it.  In  a letter  to 
Fronto  he  mentions  this  and  also  in  a passage 
from  the  Meditations  : “ Solace  your  de- 
parture with  the  reflection  : I am  leaving  a 
life  in  which  my  own  associates,  for  whom  I 
have  so  strived,  prayed,  and  thought,  them- 
selves wish  for  my  removal,  their  hope  being 
that  they  will  perchance  gain  in  freedom 
thereby.” 

This  note  of  world- weariness  and  disillusion 
as  regards  everything  men  prize  recurs  again 
and  again  in  the  course  of  the  Meditations  : 
it  runs  through  his  doctrines  of  resignation, 
of  charity  and  forbearance,  of  self-restraint 
and  peace.  Its  recurrence  in  the  many — 
perhaps  too  many — quotations  in  this 
chapter  may  have  wearied  the  reader  : yet 
I do  not  regret  that  I have  made  it  prominent, 
for  it  was  the  most  intense  idea  in  the 
Emperor’s  mind,  and  surely  strange  enough 
to  be  interesting  when  found  in  the  ruler  of 
the  greatest  of  Empires  at  the  height  of  its 
civilisation.  I hope,  too,  that  these  quota- 
tions will  initiate  the  reader  into  the  spirit 


80  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

of  the  great  Stoic.  There  was  no  question 
of  giving  an  exact  account  of  the  system 
expounded  in  the  Meditations  : for  there  is 
no  such  system  ; Marcus  Aurelius  was  more 
interested  in  virtue  than  in  learning ; he 
would  rather  feel  compunction  than  know 
its  definition. 


CHAPTER  VII 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 

The  hasty  summons  to  the  East  which 
interrupted  Marcus’  northern  campaign 
was  due  to  the  revolt  of  one  of  his  best 
generals,  Avidius  Cassius. 

Cassius  until  now  had  been  loyal  to  the 
Emperor  and  had  served  him  well  in  the 
war  against  the  Parthians.  In  that  war  the 
woi-thless  debauchee  Lucius  Verus,  Marcus’ 
colleague,  had  been  nominally  in  command, 
but  really  confined  his  campaigns  to  the 
voluptuous  groves  of  Daphne,  while  Cassius 
bore  the  brunt  of  the  fight.  Further,  Cassius 
had  by  iron  discipline  restored  the  efficiency 
of  the  Eastern  legions.  At  first,  like  all 
reformers,  he  was  cordially  hated ; this 
hatred  found  expression  in  mutiny  ; but,  on 
this  being  suppressed,  gave  place  to  respect 
and  even  to  popularity.  It  were  well  for 
Cassius  had  he  confined  his  zeal  for  reform 
to  the  army  ; but  he  wished  to  reform  the 
Emperor  and  the  court  also.  His  murmur- 
ings  became  public  property,  and  Lucius 
Verus  wrote  to  Marcus  warning  him  against 
him : “I  would  you  had  him  closely 
7 81 


82  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

watched.  For  he  is  a general  disliker  of  us 
and  of  our  doings  ; he  is  gathering  together 
an  enormous  treasure,  and  he  makes  an  open 
jest  of  our  literary  pursuits.  You,  for 
instance,  he  calls  a philosophising  old 
woman,  and  me  a dissolute  buffoon  and  a 
scamp.  Consider  what  you  would  have 
done.  For  my  part  I bear  the  fellow  no 
ill-will ; but  again  I say  take  care  that  he 
does  not  do  mischief  to  you  and  to  your 
children.” 

The  answer  of  Marcus  gives  a most  search- 
ing insight  into  his  character.  Steeped  in 
the  most  obstinately  logical  fatalism,  it  is 
yet  generous  and  noble  and  “ breathes  the 
very  soul  of  careless  magnanimity  reposing 
upon  conscious  innocence”: — 

“ I have  read  your  letter,  and  I will 
confess  to  you  I think  it  more  scrupulously 
timid  than  becomes  an  Emperor,  and  timid 
in  a way  unsuitable  to  the  spirit  of  our 
times.  Consider  this — if  the  Empire  is 
destined  to  Cassius  by  the  decrees  of  Provi- 
dence, in  that  case  it  will  not  be  in  our 
power  to  put  him  to  death,  however  much 
we  may  desire  to  do  so.  You  know  your 
great-grandfather’s  saying,  ‘ No  prince  ever 
killed  his  own  heir  ’ ; no  man,  that  is,  ever 
yet  prevailed  against  one  whom  Providence 
had  marked  out  as  his  successor.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  Providence  opposes  him,  then, 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


83 


without  any  cruelty  on  our  part,  he  will  fall 
spontaneously  into  some  snare  prepared  for 
him  by  destiny.  . . . For  Cassius,  then, 
let  him  keep  his  present  temper  and  inclina- 
tions, and  the  more  so,  being  (as  he  is)  a 
good  general,  austere  in  discipline,  brave, 
and  one  whom  the  State  cannot  afford  to  lose. 
For  as  to  what  you  insinuate,  that  I ought 
to  provide  for  my  children’s  interests,  by 
putting  this  man  judiciously  out  of  the  way, 
very  frankly  I say  to  you,  ‘ Perish,  my 
children,  if  Avidius  shall  deserve  more 
attachment  than  they,  and  if  it  shall  prove 
salutaiy  to  the  State  that  Cassius  should 
triumph  rather  than  that  the  children  of 
Marcus  should  survive.’” 

Gradually  Cassius  had  been  strengthening 
his  forces  ; and  at  length  in  a.d.  175  openly 
raised  the  standard  of  revolt  against  the 
reign  of  the  philosophers.  His  manifesto 
shows  how  deeply  the  military  party  re- 
sented the  ascendancy  of  men  who  seemed 
to  have  no  qualification  for  office  except 
their  long  beards  and  eccentric  life.  Jibes 
such  as  this  were  common  : “ His  beard  is 
worth  ten  thousand  sesterces  to  him  ; come, 
we  shall  have  to  pay  goats  a salary  next ! ” 
Avidius  admits  that  Marcus  is  a worthy  man, 
but  he  is  letting  the  State  go  to  ruin,  while 
“ hungry  blood-suckers  batten  on  her  vitals.” 
He  longs  for  the  old  strict  regime  of  Cato. 


84  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

“ Marcus  Antoninus  is  a scholar ; he  enacts 
the  philosopher ; and  he  tries  conclusions 
concerning  the  four  elements  and  upon  the 
nature  of  the  soul  ; and  he  discourses 
learnedly  upon  the  Honestum  ; and  concern- 
ing the  Summum  Bonum  he  is  unanswerable. 
Meanwhile,  is  he  learned  in  the  interests  of 
the  State  ? Can  he  argue  a point  upon  the 
public  economy  ? ” And  he  adds  : “You 
see  what  a host  of  sabres  is  required,  what 
a host  of  impeachments,  sentences,  execu- 
tions, before  the  commonwealth  can  resume 
its  ancient  integrity  ! ” 

A rumour  that  Marcus  was  dead  hastened 
the  outbreak  of  the  revolt  and  won  support 
for  Cassius.  But  it  was  quickly  contra- 
dicted ; and  this  caused  the  collapse  of  his 
forces.  Officers  and  men  deserted  him, 
and  he  was  at  length  assassinated  by  one  of 
his  own  followers. 

Meanwhile  Marcus  was  coming  with  all 
haste  from  the  Danube,  accompanied  by 
Faustina.  When  they  reached  Cappadocia, 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Taurus,  Faustina 
died,  to  his  great  grief,  and  the  tongues  of 
the  slanderers  were  silent  at  length.  The 
last  accusation  against  her  was  that  she 
had  been  privy  to  this  very  revolt,  and  had 
promised  to  marry  Cassius  in  the  event  of 
its  success.  But  to  all  these  charges  we 
must  give  a verdict  of  “ not  proven  ” ; they 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


85 


are  for  the  most  part  unreliable  gossip  of 
the  most  gossiping  of  historians.  But  even 
though  she  was  not  guilty  of  all  that  was 
laid  to  her  charge,  yet  she  seems  to  have 
wearied  of  the  over-wisdom  of  Marcus  and 
his  friends  : she  lived  a different  life  and 
had  different  tastes  from  his.  Yet  even 
after  her  death  Marcus  cherished  her  mem- 
ory. He  had  a temple  built  to  her  honour 
on  the  spot  where  she  died,  and  at  his 
request  the  Senate  decreed  her  deification. 
The  visitor  to  Rome  may  still  see  in  the 
Capitoline  Museum  a bas-relief  in  which 
she  is  represented  being  borne  up  to  heaven 
by  Fame,  while  Marcus  follows  her  from 
the  earth  with  that  look  of  tender,  wistful 
pathos  which  characterises  most  of  the 
representations  of  him.  In  decreeing  these 
honours,  as  also  in  establishing  an  institute 
for  orphans  to  be  called  Faustiniance,  after 
her  name,  he  was  but  following  step  by 
step  the  action  of  his  father  Antoninus  on 
the  death  of  the  elder  Faustina. 

When  Marcus  reached  Antioch  the  revolt 
was  already  ended.  One  of  the  assassins, 
hoping  for  reward,  brought  the  head  of 
Cassius  to  the  Emperor ; but  he  put  him 
from  him  with  indignation  and  loathing. 
His  one  regret  was  that  he  had  been  deprived 
of  the  pleasure  of  pardoning  his  enemy. 

But  the  good  deed  was  done,  if  not  to 


86  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

Cassius,  at  any  rate  to  his  wife  and  relatives. 
Many  urged  him  to  wreak  his  vengeance  on 
them.  Faustina,  before  her  death,  had 
insisted  that  he  “ should  show  no  mercy  to 
men  that  showed  none  to  you,  nor  would 
have  shown  any  to  me  or  my  sons  in  case 
they  had  gained  the  victory  ” ; she  would 
have  had  him  punish  the  army  also  severely 
as  accomplices.  Marcus  replied  that  he 
admired  her  zeal  for  their  family,  but  said 
that  he  would  spare  Cassius’  wife  and 
children  and  son-in-law  and  commend  them 
to  the  mercy  of  the  Senate.  As  to  his  other 
relatives  : “ Why  should  I speak  of  pardon 
to  them,  who  indeed  have  done  no  wrong, 
and  are  blameless  even  in  purpose.”  The 
Senate  granted  his  requests,  and  the  house- 
hold of  Cassius  was  amply  provided  for  by 
the  generosity  of  the  Emperor. 

We  are  wont  to  think  of  the  forgiving  to 
seventy  times  seven  times  as  the  peculiar 
and  most  characteristic  virtue  of  Christianity 
as  it  assuredly  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
natural  virtues.  Yet  it  was  a virtue  familiar 
to  the  wise  ones  of  the  Stoics,  and  perhaps 
not  a difficult  virtue  to  those  who  adopted 
their  philosophy  of  life.  If  nothing  matters 
and  all  is  in  very  truth  but  vanity  of  vanities 
and  the  soul  is  steeped  in  this  conviction, 
the  disposition  to  look  on  life’s  worries, 
whatever  their  sources,  as  but  petty  and 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


87 


trifling,  is  natural  and  spontaneous.  For 
one  with  the  Stoic  temperament  hard  things 
are  but  the  whetstone  of  the  will,  and  herein 
precisely  lies  the  danger  of  that  tempera- 
ment from  the  Christian  point  of  view. 
The  Stoic  will,  if  not  well-ordered,  is  a harsh 
grinding  thing  which  sucks  in  and  crushes 
the  beautiful  things  of -life  as  grist  beneath 
its  wheels.  It  exults  in  its  strength  with  a 
forbidding  and  unlovely  pride,  so  different 
from  the  beautiful  diffidence  of  Christian 
strength,  which  loves  not  the  beauty  of  the 
creatures  less,  but  the  beauty  of  the  Creator 
more,  and  with  a kind  of  supernatural 
Epicureanism  renounces  the  beauty  of  the 
fleeting  for  the  sake  of  the  beauty  of  which 
it  is  but  an  image  far  removed,  the  beauty 
of  Him  whose  beauty  is  older  than  the  hills 
and  will  abide  when  they  have  crumbled 
away. 

It  is  to  the  credit  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
that  even  in  this  he  avoided  to  a great 
extent  the  faults  of  his  virtues ; it  is  the 
touch  of  emotion  in  his  writings  and  in  those 
of  the  other  later  Stoics  of  the  Empire 
which  gives  them  their  charm  beyond  the 
earlier  members  of  the  sehool.  We  have 
many  indications  that  his  soul  was  open  to 
the  airoppoT]  Tov  KaX\ov<i,  the  inflow  of 
beauty  from  sensible  things,  while  his  corres- 
pondence with  Fronto  shows  that  his  nature 


88  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

was  affectionate.  Throughout  the  Medita- 
tions also  we  see  the  reflection  of  the  constant 
struggle  which  he  had  with  his  own  nature. 
One  who  did  not  feel  deeply  would  never 
have  insisted  so  much  on  the  necessity  for 
control  of  the  feelings.  It  is  a fallacy  to 
think  that  the  Stoic  is  necessarily  dead  to 
humanity.  In  a sense,  and  in  theory  at 
least,  he  is  the  truest  lover  of  man  and  the 
human.  His  sole  vocation  in  life  is  the 
good  of  the  whole ; the  caritas  generis 
humani  (love  for  his  fellow-men),  if  not  the 
central  point  of  their  system  and  far  from 
the  Christian  ideal  of  charity  in  beauty  and 
efficacy,  yet  was  present  and  active  in 
them.  The  Stoic  must  check  his  feelings 
but  not  suppress  them.  It  suffices  that 
the  barrier  of  the  will  be  raised  and  strength- 
ened day  by  day  and  then  the  feelings  may 
surge  up  behind  it,  ready  for  right  use ; 
but  as  servants  not  as  masters.  Thus  the 
paradox  is  true  that  those  have  often  the 
strongest  emotions  whose  emotions  are 
most  in  check. 

On  his  way  back  from  the  East  the  Em- 
peror passed  through  Athens.  There  he 
found  much  that  attracted  him  and  much 
that  repelled.  The  schools  of  philosophy 
were  his  chief  interest,  but  he  liked  not  their 
sophisms  and  disputations,  and  the  irrespon- 
sibility which  seemed  irreverent  towards 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


89 


the  true  philosophy  whose  end  was  life. 
When  he  thinks  of  the  dialecticians  of  his 
day  he  thanks  the  gods  that  he  did  not 
make  more  proficiency  in  rhetoric,  poetry, 
and  the  other  studies  “ in  which  I should 
perhaps  have  been  completely  engaged,  if 
I had  seen  that  I was  making  progress  in 
them.”  He  thinks  with  gratitude  of 
Rusticus  as  having  taught  him  “ not  to  be 
led  astray  to  sophistic  emulation,  nor  to 
writing  on  speculative  matters,  nor  to 
delivering  little  hortatory  orations,  nor  to 
showing  myself  off  as  a man  who  practises 
much  discipline  or  does  benevolent  acts 
in  order  to  make  a display  ; and  to  abstain 
from  rhetoric  and  fine-writing.”  “ Quid  tibi 
de  generibus  et  speciebus?”  said  a Kempis. 

But  though  the  spirit  of  the  schools  was 
repugnant  to  his  sincerity,  yet,  true  to  his 
leading  principle  of  fostering  culture,  he 
founded  several  chairs  in  what  we  may  call 
the  University  of  Athens. 

While  at  Athens  he  was  also  initiated  into 
the  Eleusinian  Mysteries.  This  act  was 
not  with  him  merely  an  act  of  State-policy, 
an  act  of  condescension  to  an  alien  religion 
such  as  other  Emperors  often  showed ; 
nor  was  it,  as  it  was  with  Hadrian,  the  out- 
come of  a restless  desire  to  pry  into  the  novel 
and  the  mysterious.  With  Marcus  Aurelius 
it  was  probably  a sincere  act  of  religion, 


90  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

There  was  much  in  the  symbolism  and 
ritual  of  the  mysteries,  its  hymns  and  proces- 
sions and  dramatic  representations  re- 
sembling the  mystery  plays  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  in  its  fasting  and  nightly  torchlight 
processions  by  the  sea-shore  and  through 
the  plain,  which  would  appeal  to  his 
ritualistic  nature.  The  doctrines  of  expia- 
tion and  a future  life,  the  koKui  iXirlSes — the 
fair  hopes  of  Eleusis,  must  have  had  an 
especial  attraction  for  him. 

As  to  his  own  religious  views,  he  certainly 
was  not  the  Agnostic  which  Renan  would 
have  him  be.  “ In  every  time  and  place,” 
he  says,  “ it  rests  with  thyself  to  use  the 
event  of  the  hour  religiously  : at  all  seasons 
worship  the  gods.”  He  asserts  that  it  is 
impious  to  deny  the  existence  of  the  gods, 
and  he  rests  his  theories  of  right  and  wrong 
on  the  supposition  of  their  existence.  True, 
as  Renan  points  out,  he  often  holds  out  to 
himself  the  alternative  of  their  non-existence, 
but  even  then  it  is  only  to  assert  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Divinity  in  another  form.  He 
says  that  if  they  did  not  exist,  yet  truth  to 
our  own  nature  would  be  a sufficient  motive 
for  right  action  ; but  our  nature  is  for  him 
but  a part  of  the  nature  which  is  Divine, 
and  derives  its  sanction  from  its  participa- 
tion in  this  supreme  nature.  His  religion 
was  a strange  mixture  of  monotheism. 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


91 


polytheism,  and  pantheism  ; but  to  atheism 
he  never  really  consents.  Strictly  speaking, 
he  had  no  philosophy  or  theology ; for  he 
was  not  interested  in  systems  as  such. 
Yet  he  never  wavered  in  his  loyalty  to  the 
national  religion,  however  much  or  little 
of  it  he  really  believed  when  he  stood  at 
the  sacrificial  altar  in  pontifical  robes  and 
chanted  the  ancient  hymns  and  formularies, 
all  of  which  he  knew  by  heart. 

Indeed,  he  was  more  deeply  interested 
in  the  practical  than  in  the  pure  reason  ; 
and  conduct  was  more  for  him  than  dogma  : 
hence  it  is  that  his  thoughts  are  so  intensely 
human  and  universal  in  their  appeal.  His 
nature,  however,  had  little  in  common 
with  the  light  and  frivolous  agnosticism  of 
Renan  and  the  dilettanti ; and  only  a very 
subjective  interpretation  of  the  Meditations 
can  eliminate  from  them  the  “ supernatural  ” 
element.  Renan  recognises  this  element 
to  a certain  extent,  and  accounts  it  a 
blemish  “ which,  however,  does  not  affect 
the  marvellous  beauty  of  the  work  as  a 
whole.”  It  is  for  him,  as  for  Matthew 
Arnold,  the  gospel  of  those  who  walk  by 
sight  and  not  by  faith,  “ who  have  no  faith 
in  the  supernatural  ” ; and  it  “ will  never 
grow  old  because  it  affirms  no  dogma.” 

It  is  useless  to  inquire  further  into  the 
nature  of  his  religious  beliefs.  He  would 


92  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

have  been  at  a loss  to  define  them  himself. 
The  great  salient  feature  is  here  as  elsewhere 
the  tragedy  of  a great  moral  nature  in  the 
throes  of  superstition,  of  a beautiful  life 
deprived  of  its  fit  setting : a tragedy  too 
common  in  our  own  days  filling  wide  spaces 
with  spiritual  waste  and  hopeless  sighs,  and 
making  hearts  desolate  for  that  their  light 
is  gone  out  or  flickers  low. 

On  his  return  to  Rome,  Marcus  celebrated 
a splendid  triumph,  shared  in  by  Commodus, 
over  the  conquered  German  peoples.  It 
was  against  his  own  better  feelings  and  in 
concession  to  Roman  vulgarity  that  he 
endured  this  ordeal.  He  often  expresses 
his  disgust  for  these  functions  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  regarded  conquerors  as  no  better 
than  robbers.  The  shouts  of  the  mob,  the 
long  train  of  captives,  the  reeking  public 
banquets  were  little  to  his  taste ; and  for 
him  there  was  no  need  of  the  attendant 
who  usually  stood  behind  the  conqueror  on 
the  triumphal  car  to  remind  him  that  he  was 
a man  lest  he  should  perhaps  bring  down 
on  himself  the  wrath  of  the  gods  by  an 
unseemly  arrogance. 

There  was  less  need  than  ever  on  this  day  ; 
for  with  Commodus  by  his  side  a great  sorrow 
overshadowed  him.  He  had  nominated 
Commodus  as  his  successor  to  avoid  a worse 
evil — the  evil  of  civil  war,  which  would 


LAST  DAYS  IN  ROME 


98 


certainly  have  arisen  had  he  chosen  one 
more  worthy  from  his  own  philosophic 
circle.  Yet  Commodus,  though  still  a youth, 
had  already  given  full  reign  to  his  passions  ; 
and  Marcus  can  scarcely  have  failed  to 
foresee  the  disaster  which  he  was  to  bring 
upon  the  Empire.  The  shadow  of  this  sorrow 
and  of  the  great  loneliness  which  was  his 
during  his  later  years,  grows  darker  and 
darker  over  the  last  books  of  the  Medita- 
tions. 

As  Renan  has  remarked,  they  have  but 
one  thought,  that  of  passing  as  gently  as 
may  be  from  the  world.  In  the  earlier 
books  he  gathers  strength  for  the  struggle 
of  life  ; now  all  is  preparation  for  death. 

The  evil  plight  of  public  affairs  also  justi- 
fied this  world- weariness.  The  signs  of 
decay  were  already  visible  in  Rome : the 
handwriting  had  been  seen  on  the  walls  of 
the  Capitol.  Even  Renan  has  to  admit 
that  “ in  reality  the  progress  effected 
during  the  reigns  of  Antoninus  and  Marcus 
Aurelius  had  been  merely  superficial.  It 
had  been  limited  to  a varnish  of  hypocrisy 
and  external  professions,  which  people 
assumed  in  order  to  be  in  harmony  with  the 
two  wise  Emperors.  The  masses  were  grossly 
materialistic ; the  army  was  decaying ; the 
laws  alone  had  been  changed  for  the  better.” 
Plague,  famine,  and  war  had  done  their 


94  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

, work  of  death.  Marcus  did  all  he  could  to 
alleviate  the  misery ; but  bad  finance  had 
left  him  helpless  to  cope  with  such  universal 
disaster.  And  to  fill  his  cup  of  bitterness 
news  was  brought  that  his  old  enemies  on 
the  Danube  were  in  arms  again.  He  must 
needs,  ill  and  heartsick  though  he  was,  gird 
himself  once  more  and  prepare  to  leave 
Rome  for  the  wild  North — this  time  never 
to  return. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


“ THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD.” 

The  peace  hastily  made  in  a.d.  175  was 
broken  two  years  later.  The  local  com- 
manders again  proved  incompetent  to  drive 
back  the  barbarian  hordes,  and  Marcus  had 
once  more  to  assume  the  command  in  per- 
son. This  time  he  decided  to  take  with  him 
Commodus,  in  the  hope  perhaps  that,  like 
so  many  of  the  Roman  nobles,  worthless  at 
home,  he  might  develop  in  the  provinces 
those  powers  for  government  and  war  which 
were  innate  in  that  race  of  rulers ; or,  at  the 
very  least,  in  the  hope  of  strengthening  him 
against  effeminate  influences  by  the  hard 
northern  winters  and  the  privations  of 
camp  life. 

Before  leaving  Rome  the  Emperor  gave  a 
pitiful  exhibition  of  his  powerlessness  to 
diffuse  the  light  of  his  own  philosophy 
amongst  his  subjects  ; or  else  of  the  strange 
grip,  growing  stronger  as  the  shades  drew 
round  him,  which  the  pagan  superstitions 
had  upon  his  soul.  For  seven  days  before  his 
departure  the  city  was  the  scene  of  the 
wildest  religious  extravagances.  The  older 
95 


96  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

gods  of  the  West  shared  the  honours  with 
their  lighter  brethren  from  the  East  and 
South.  The  number  of  white  steers  sacri- 
ficed was  so  great  that  some  of  the  wits 
circulated  an  epigrammatical  petition  from 
them  to  the  Emperor  : “ The  white  oxen  to 
the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius : If  you 
return  as  conqueror,  that  will  be  the  end  of 
us.”  Sumptuous  feasts  were  prepared  before 
every  temple  at  which  the  statues  of  the 
gods  reclined : and  Rome  reeled  in  mad  revel. 
Quacks  from  all  parts  of  the  Empire  gathered 
in  Rome  and  flourished  during  those  days. 

Lucian  has  left  us  a vivid  picture  of  one 
of  these.  This  was  Alexander  of  Abono- 
teichos,  the  prince  of  impostors.  He  had 
started  a new  religion  in  Paphlagonia  with 
mysteries  and  rites  based  on  those  of 
Eleusis.  This  had  quickly  spread  over  the 
East ; and  with  the  other  Eastern  impostures 
found  a welcome  at  Rome.  Rutilianus,  a 
Roman  senator  of  consular  rank,  became  its 
patron  and  zealous  advocate.  The  new 
mysteries  were  celebrated  during  three 
days  with  scenes  of  wild  excitement  and 
immorality.  Even  the  friends  of  Marcus 
and  Marcus  himself  were  deceived.  During 
the  Northern  wars,  at  a word  from  Alex- 
ander’s sacred  serpent,  Marcus  had  solemnly 
presided  in  the  robes  of  the  Pontifex 
Maximus  over  a most  ridiculous  ceremony. 


THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD 


97 


The  Romans  were  assured  that  if  they  cast 
two  lions  alive  into  the  Danube  they  would 
be  victorious  over  the  enemy  arrayed  against 
them  on  the  opposite  bank.  The  lions  were 
cast  in  with  all  ceremony ; but,  unfortu- 
nately for  Alexander’s  reputation  and  Mar- 
cus’ credulity,  they  were  beaten  to  death  on 
reaching  the  other  bank,  and  the  Romans, 
when  they  crossed,  fared  no  better. 

The  Emperor  went  through  a ceremony 
at  this  time  which  must  have  been  no  less 
revolting  to  him  than  it  is  to  us.  This  was 
the  ancient  ceremony  of  the  casting  of  the 
dart,  a ceremony  almost  as  old  as  Rome 
itself.  The  Emperor  went  in  procession  to 
the  temple  of  Bellona,  surrounded  by  a mob 
of  fanatics,  who  cut  into  their  living  flesh 
with  knives  and  whips  and  then  lapped  the 
streaming  blood — to  honour  and  placate 
their  Goddess  of  War ! Arrived  at  the 
Temple  he  hurled  the  dart  towards  the 
North — ^where  his  enemies  were  already 
pressing  his  armies  hard. 

When  he  had  done  all  that  he  considered 
necessary  to  appease  the  gods  or  to  soothe 
the  superstitious  fears  of  his  subjects, 
Marcus  at  length  set  out  for  the  scene  of 
war  in  a.d.  178.  Of  this  war  very  little  is 
known.  The  dream  of  Augustus  and  many 
of  the  other  Emperors,  given  up  as  hopeless 
by  them — ^the  extension  of  the  Roman 
8 


98  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

frontier  to  the  Elbe  and  the  consolidation 
of  Roman  power  in  the  North — was  almost 
realised.  But  the  Dark  Shadow  which  had 
crossed  Marcus’  path  so  often  before 
drew  nigh  once  more  and  for  the  last  time. 
On  the  eve  of  a great  and,  it  would  seem, 
a final  conquest,  illness  and  death  conquered 
the  Conqueror. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  a.d.  180  that  the 
plague  which  had  taken  off  half  the  popula- 
tion of  the  Empire  came  to  claim  the  life 
of  the  Emperor.  He  fell  ill,  probably  at 
Vienna,  on  the  10th  of  March.  His  con- 
stitution had  never  been  robust  and  the 
hardships  of  the  last  years  had  still  further 
weakened  it.  Hence  he  recognised  im- 
mediately that  this  illness  was  to  be  unto 
death  ; and  is  said  to  have  at  once  welcomed 
its  approach.  Continual  disappointment 
had  killed  all  hope  within  him,  and  with 
hope  the  pain  of  hope  unfulfilled ; and  so  he 
had  no  regrets  now  that  that  strange  spirit 
which  had  ever  dogged  him  once  more 
passed  by  at  midnight  over  the  dreary 
northern  plains  and  entering  into  his  tent 
dashed  the  cup  of  victory  from  his  lips. 
He  asked  Commodus  as  a last  request  to 
complete  the  war  and  then  prepared  for  the 
end.  For  seven  days  the  illness  lasted.  On 
the  sixth  he  bade  farewell  to  his  friends. 
He  spoke  to  them  of  the  vanity  of  life  and 


“ THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD  ” 99 

the  easiness  of  death  ; commended  to  them 
the  interests  of  the  State  and  Commodus, 
“ if  he  should  prove  worthy  ” ; and  all  this 
with  a great  calm.  On  the  seventh  day  he 
would  see  nobody  except  Commodus,  and 
him  only  for  a short  time,  with  a last  de- 
spairing hope  perhaps  of  inspiring  at  least 
one  noble  sentiment  into  that  monster  of 
brutality.  Then  he  seemed  to  sleep ; and 
his  sleep  deepened  into  death. 

It  was  a death  free  from  pomp,  lonely 
and  detached  as  his  life  had  been.  But 
death,  in  whatever  form  it  came,  seems  to 
have  had  no  terrors  for  him.  He  had  often 
faced  the  thought  of  it  and  always  to  per- 
suade himself  that  in  it  there  was  nothing 
to  fear,  but  perhaps  much  to  hope  for. 

His  confidence  in  facing  death  sprang 
from  no  sure  hope  of  personal  immortality. 
He  believed  in  an  immortality  for  both 
soul  and  body  and  that  the  gods  would 
care  for  both  ; but  whether  the  life  beyond 
would  be  a continuance  of  the  personal 
life  of  time,  or  whether  this  human  soul 
should  be  swallowed  up  in  the  great  world- 
soul  he  knew  not.  “ You  have  embarked 
upon  life  : when  you  have  made  your  voyage 
debark  without  more  ado.  If  you  happen 
to  land  in  another  world  there  will  be  gods 
to  take  care  of  you  there ; but  if  it  be  your 
fortune  to  drop  into  nothingness,  why  then 


100  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

you  will  be  no  more  solicited  with  pleasure 
and  pain.  Then  you  will  have  done  drudg- 
ing for  your  outer  covering,  which  is  the 
more  unworthy  in  proportion  as  that  which 
serves  it  is  worthy : for  the  one  is  all  soul, 
intelligence  and  divinity,  whereas  the  other 
is  dirt  and  corruption,” 

Yet  elsewhere,  though  admitting  the 
possibility  of  the  absorption  of  the  human 
soul  into  the  world-soul  he  rejects  the  possi- 
bility of  utter  annihilation.  “ What  is 
sprung  from  earth  dissolves  to  earth  again 
and  heaven-bom  things  fly  to  their  native 
seat.”  But  again  he  adds  : “ When  a man 
dies,  and  the  spirit  is  let  loose  into  the  air, 
it  holds  out  for  some  time,  after  which  it  is 
changed,  diffused,  or  knotted  into  flame,  or 
else  absorbed  into  the  generative  principle 
of  the  Universe.”  This  is  the  best  he  can 
promise  us : yet  how  miserable  a mockery 
of  human  aspirations  it  is  ! how  unsatisfying 
to  the  longings  of  the  soul,  which  seeks  in 
the  spiritual  for  the  most  truly  and  intensely 
real  and  in  the  spiritual  and  the  spiritualised, 
thus  truly  real,  for  the  truest  beauty  ! 

A philosophy  which  takes  the  brightness 
out  of  both  lives,  here  and  beyond,  reducing 
both  to  a dull  grey  mist,  can  never  be  a 
spiritual  force,  and,  if  it  prevailed,  must 
result  in  the  reversal  of  all  ordinary  judg- 
ments of  value.  This  was  a conclusion 


THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD 


101 


tt 


»> 


frankly  accepted  by  the  Stoics,  and  they 
carried  it  even  to  the  extent  of  the  abnega- 
tion of  man’s  most  absorbing  desire — the 
will  to  live.  A man  may  even  deny  this  : 
for  adequate  eause  he  may,  nay,  even  should, 
take  away  his  own  life.  In  ordinary  circum- 
stances man  should  stand  at  his  post  till 
dismissed  by  his  commander ; he  should 
play  out  the  tragedy  of  life  to  the  end  as 
arranged  by  the  dramatist : for  just  cause 
he  may  quit  the  stage  before  his  part  is 
played  out.  The  reason  is  that  between 
life  and  death  there  is  nothing  to  choose ; 
they  are  but  suceessive  stages  of  one  and 
the  same  natural  process.  Marcus  held 
that  man  may  quit  life  if  he  finds  it  intoler- 
able. True,  he  says  that  life  ought  not  to 
be  intolerable  : it  is  our  own  fault  if  it  is. 
But  supposing  that  through  weakness  we 
cannot  bear  it,  then  “ we  may  give  it  the 
slip  ” ; and  again  because  death  is  not  the 
serious  thing  men  imagine  it  to  be  : “ What 
great  matter  is  this  business  of  dying  ? If 
the  gods  exist,  you  ean  suffer  nothing,  for 
they  will  do  you  no  harm  ; and  if  they  do 
not,  or  if  they  take  no  care  of  us  mortals — 
why,  then  a world  without  gods  or  provi- 
dence is  not  a world  worth  a man’s  while 
to  live  in.  But  in  truth  the  being  of  the 
gods  and  their  concern  in  human  affairs  is 
beyond  dispute.”  If  a man  is  of  such  a 


102  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

character  or  placed  in  such  circumstances 
that  for  him  a virtuous  life  is  morally  im- 
possible, then  Marcus  says  he  has  just  cause 
for  suicide,  “for  reason  would  rather  that 
you  were  nothing  than  that  you  were  a 
knave.”  “ You  may  live  now,  if  you  please, 
as  you  would  choose  to  do  if  you  were  near 
to  dying.  But  suppose  people  will  not  let 
you — ^why,  then,  give  life  the  slip,  but  by 
no  means  make  a misfortune  of  it.  If  the 
room  smokes,  I leave  it,  and  there  is  an 
end ; for  why  should  one  be  concerned  at 
the  matter  ? ” 

Thus  did  he  try  by  force  of  argument, 
often  the  merest  sophistry,  to  conjure  away 
the  dread  realities  of  human  existence.  But 
when  death  called  for  one  after  another  of  his 
children,  he  realised  how  futile  his  doctrine 
was.  Yet  it  was  the  best  he  could  adhere 
to,  and  he  did  but  share  in  the  cruel  dis- 
enchantment that  comes  sooner  or  later  to 
all  who  follow  a false  philosophy  of  life. 
The  self-deception  which  makes  these 
systems  plausible  in  the  abstract  vanishes 
at  the  cold  touch  of  death  or  at  a thrill  of 
love  from  a kindred  heart.  All  that  is  most 
sacred  in  life,  its  morality  and  its  ideals, 
the  foundations  of  society  and  the  aspira- 
tions of  the  individual ; the  problems  that 
vex  men  as  to  the  ultimate  grounds  of 
obligation,  beautj^  and  love ; the  problems 


THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD 


103 


(( 


>» 


of  freedom,  of  evil  and  of  immortality  ; the 
need  of  the  human  heart  for  guidance  and 
support  can  receive  no  adequate  explanation 
except  in  the  acceptance  of  integral  Chris- 
tianity— namely  Catholicism.  Hence  the 
folly  of  our  neo-pagan  revival.  Paganism 
was  tried  and  is  dead  with  the  souls  and  the 
hopes  it  slew  ; the  future  lies  with  a vigorous 
fighting  Catholicity.  It  is  vain  to  attempt 
to  resurrect  the  corpse  which  Constantine 
prepared  for  burial.  Wisdom  and  duty 
bid  us  follow  the  system  which  our  whole 
nature  cries  out  for : reason  alone  or  senti- 
ment alone  is  a blind  guide ; truth  lies  in  the 
leading  of  the  whole  man. 

Yet  the  moral  greatness  which  Marcus 
had  attained  in  spite  of  all  the  limitations 
of  his  system  was  made  very  clear  by  the 
universal  grief  and  reverence  which  was 
expressed  at  his  death.  When  his  body  was 
brought  to  Rome  the  whole  city  went  into 
mourning.  Henceforth  we  are  told  men 
spoke  of  him  no  longer  by  his  imperial 
titles,  but  old  men  spoke  of  him  as  “Marcus, 
my  son  ” ; young  men,  as  “ Marcus,  my 
father  ” ; and  men  of  his  own  age,  as 
“ Marcus,  my  brother  ” ; such  was  the  affec- 
tion of  all  for  him.  The  decreeing  of  divine 
honours  was  not  in  his  case,  as  it  was  in 
that  of  so  many  of  the  Emperors,  a formality 
or  a burlesque : it  was  from  the  heart ; 


104  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  VOX  populi  proclaimed  him  “ propitious 
god  ” before  the  Senate  passed  the  formal 
decree.  And,  truly,  as  St.  Augustine  said 
of  Plato,  we  might  well  pardon  the  pagans 
if  they  raised  a temple  to  him  rather  than 
to  the  gods  they  honoured.  For  more  than 
a century  after  his  death  his  statue  was 
to  be  seen  amongst  the  household  gods  in 
the  hearth-shrines  of  the  whole  Western 
Empire,  and  men  looked  askance  at  a 
chance  defaulter  to  this  cult.  He  was  the 
model  of  succeeding  Emperors,  and  Chris- 
tian writers  vied  with  pagans  in  their  praises 
of  him.  Even  in  our  own  time  that  strange, 
melancholy  figure  is  dear  to  all  that  know 
him : there  is  a pathos  and  an  interest  in 
his  life  and  thoughts  which  is  unique : 
“ Everyone  of  us  wears  mourning  in  his 
heart  for  Marcus  Aurelius  as  though  he 
died  but  yesterday.” 

Renan  was  right  in  this ; but  we  cannot 
admit  his  further  statement  that  “ the  day 
of  the  death  of  Marcus  Aurelius  can  be 
taken  as  the  decisive  moment  at  which  the 
ruin  of  ancient  civilisation  was  decided.” 
It  was  decided  long  before ; perhaps  it 
would  be  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  the 
day  of  Marcus’  accession  was  the  first  day 
of  decadence,  as  it  was  the  last  of  the  old 
type  of  Roman  rule.  But  in  truth  the  fate 
of  empires  never  hangs  on  a single  day  or  a 


“ THE  END  OF  THE  OLD  WOELD  ” 105 

single  ruler.  They  grow  and  they  decay 
over  long  centuries  : the  seed  of  life  and  the 
rot  of  death  is  working  long  before  its  effects 
appear  without ; and  in  the  reign  of  Marcus 
the  Empire  was  already  doomed.  The  old 
Roman  virtues — those  especially  which 
form  the  morale  of  an  imperial  race — strict 
probity,  sacrifice  of  individual  interests  to 
the  good  of  the  State,  initiative,  enterprise 
and  the  fighting  qualties  were  all  dissolving. 
In  their  place  was  being  developed  the 
citizen,  who  is  ever  the  product  of  centralisa- 
tion— the  man  without  originality,  devotion, 
or  virtue ; who  is  interested  in  subtlety 
rather  than  in  truth;  wrapped  up  in  his  own 
petty  world,  incapable  of  heroism  or  sacrifice. 

In  the  midst  of  this  death  there  was  a 
strange  stirring  of  life  in  the  North  and  in 
the  East — a life  which  was  to  feed  on  the 
death  of  the  Empire.  The  forbears  of 
Alaric  and  his  Goths  had  already  knocked 
at  the  gate  and  announced  his  coming.  The 
eloquent  pleadings  of  the  Christian  apolo- 
gists addressed  to  Marcus  himself  told  of  a 
new  stirring  in  the  spiritual  and  intellectual 
world — of  a new  vision  which  he  and  his 
friends  could  not  or  would  not  see  ; and  the 
brave  words  and  noble  deeds  of  the  martyrs 
told  that  there  was  life  in  this  new  creed — 
yes ! life  and  love  to  conquer  Stoic  apathy 
and  pagan  death. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 

In  reading  the  Meditations  of  Marcus 
Aurelius  we  frequently  are  struck  by  the 
almost  Christian  spirit  which  permeates 
them.  Mr.  F.  H.  Myers  has  well  said  : 
“ Whatever  winds  of  the  Spirit  may  sweep 
over  the  sea  of  souls  the  life  of  Marcus  will 
remain  for  ever  the  high-water  mark  of  the 
unassisted  virtue  of  man.”  So  sublime 
and  seemingly  preternatural  is  his  spirit  that 
men  in  all  ages  have  asked  and  answered  in 
various  ways  the  questions  : “ Has  Christi- 
anity anything  better  to  offer  us  ? and  if 
so,  in  what  precisely  does  it  consist  ? ” 
It  is  as  an  answer  to  these  questions  that  I 
introduce  this  brief  reference  to  the  story 
of  the  Martyrs,  preferably  a few  of  the  many 
that  suffered  under  Marcus  himself. 

During  his  reign  the  Church  endured  a 
persecution  severer  than  any  it  had  yet 
known.  How  far  he  was  personally  respon- 
sible for  this  we  cannot  tell.  He  was  not 
wholly  guilty  nor  yet  wholly  innocent.  He 
certainly  ordered  the  torture  and  execution 
of  the  Martyrs  of  Lyons  ; his  most  intimate 
106 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


107 


friend  sentenced  St.  Justin  to  death  at 
Rome ; and  his  most  trusted  lawyer  con- 
demned St.  Felicitas  and  her  sons ; but,  on 
the  other  hand,  many  of  the  persecutions 
were  due  to  the  anger  of  the  mob,  and  withal 
he  knew  not  what  he  did.  The  Christians 
were  to  him  merely  an  uncultured  and 
fanatical  sect  without  a single  redeeming 
virtue.  In  the  only  passage  in  the  Medita- 
tions where  he  mentions  them  he  attri- 
butes their  constancy  in  death  to  sheer 
perverseness.  After  expressing  his  admi- 
ration for  a soul,  “ which  is  ready,  if 
at  any  moment  it  must  be  separated 
from  the  body,  to  be  extinguished,  or 
dissolved,  or  to  continue  to  exist,”  he 
adds,  “ but  this  readiness  must  come 
from  a man’s  own  judgment,  not  from  mere 
obstinacy  as  with  the  Christians,  but  with 
considerateness,  with  gravity,  so  as  to  be 
persuasive  without  tragic  show.”  With 
such  a view  of  the  Christian  character  it 
is  not  strange  that  he  felt  no  qualms  in 
sanctioning,  though  he  did  not  instigate, 
the  first  persecution  that  bore  the  semblance 
of  being  universal  and  systematic. 

Furthermore,  Roman  tradition  was  law 
for  him ; and  Roman  tradition  was  very 
clear  as  to  the  treatment  which  Christians 
deserved.  The  superstitious  pagans  attri- 
buted all  public  calamities  to  the  wrath  of 


108  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

their  gods,  and  this  wrath  to  the  contempt 
which  the  Christians  showed  for  the  pagan 
idols.  As  Tertullian  puts  it : “ The 

Christians  are  the  cause  of  all  disasters,  of 
all  public  calamities.  If  the  Tiber  floods 
Rome,  if  the  Nile  does  not  flood  the  plains, 
if  the  heavens  are  closed,  if  the  earth  trem- 
bles, if  a famine  takes  place  or  a war  or  a 
plague,  immediately  a cry  is  raised  ‘ The 
Christians  to  the  lions  ! to  death  with  the 
Christians !’  ” Now,  the  reign  of  Marcus 
was  one  of  singular  calamities,  all  the  more 
aggravating  because  unforeseen  and  irre- 
sistible and  devastating  the  city  and  the 
Empire  at  the  culminating  point  of  their 
prosperity.  The  reign  opened  with  wars 
and  rumours  of  wars  on  the  frontiers ; the 
Tiber  overflowed  Rome ; there  had  been  a 
plague  and  a famine.  Here  truly  was  the 
anger  of  the  gods  against  the  Roman  welfare 
— the  deorum  ira  in  rem  Romanam  of  Tacitus. 
The  mob  howled  for  Christian  blood ; and 
Marcus  was  too  weak  or  too  little  concerned 
to  resist.  Antoninus,  Hadrian,  Trajan  had 
consented  to  the  torture  of  the  fanatics, 
though  they  had  not  shared  the  popular 
prejudices  against  them ; many  of  the 
lawyers  and  philosophers  had  counselled  it 
for  the  good  of  the  State ; why  should  he 
say  no  ? His  better  nature  probably  re- 
volted from  such  brutality,  but  it  is  the 


THE  MAETYRS  OF  CHRIST 


109 


misfortune  of  diffident  conventionalists,  such 
as  he,  that  they  sacrifice  their  better  instincts 
to  the  received  views  of  ruder  natures. 

The  first  victims  of  the  superstition  of  the 
Romans  and  the  conventionality  of  their 
Emperor  were  St.  Felicitas  and  her  sons. 
Their  trial  and  death  forms  a celebrated 
episode  in  the  history  of  the  martyrs.  It 
well  illustrates  the  spirit  of  the  martyrs* 
and  the  great  things  which  the  Church 
was  doing  for  the  weak  ones  of  the  world  ; 
how  that  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and 
sucklings  she  was  perfecting  praise  through 
the  strong  love  of  Christ  which  was  the 
inheritance  of  her  children. 

The  Act  tells  us  that  “ owing  to  indigna- 
tion amongst  the  Pontiffs,  Felicitas,  a 
woman  of  high  rank,  was  struck  down  with 
her  seven  most  Christian  sons.”  Her  life 
had  been  a source  of  great  edification  to  her 
fellow-Christians,  and  the  Pontiffs  “ seeing 
that,  thanks  to  her,  the  good  repute  of  the 
Christian  name  was  growing,  spoke  of  her 
to  Augustus  Antoninus  (i.e.,  Marcus  Aure- 
lius), saying : ‘ This  widow  and  her  sons  are 
outraging  our  gods  to  our  great  peril.  If 

♦ This  is  admitted  even  by  those  scholars  who  regard, 
and  rightly  it  would  seem,  these  Acts  as  a historical 
romance,  hut  founded  on  facts.  Since  the  main  facts 
are  true,  and  my  concern  is  to  illustrate  the  spirit  of 
the  martyrs,  this  testimony  seemed  sufficient  justifica- 
tion for  quoting  the  Acts. 


110  THE  EMPEEOK  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

she  does  not  pay  homage  to  the  gods,  your 
majesty  must  know  that  they  will  be  so 
angry  that  they  cannot  be  appeased.’  Then 
the  Emperor  ordered  the  Prefect  of  the  City 
to  compel  her  and  her  sons  to  appease  the 
wrath  of  the  gods  by  sacrifice.” 

This  Prefect  of  the  City  was  Publius 
Salvius  Julianus,  the  most  distinguished 
and  trusted  of  Roman  lawyers  ; and  before 
him  Felicitas  was  now  brought  for  trial. 
He  attempted  first  by  blandishments,  then 
by  threats,  to  persuade  her  to  sacrifice.  She 
replied  ; “You  cannot  entice  me  by  bland- 
ishments nor  frighten  me  by  threats,  for  I 
have  within  me  the  Holy  Spirit,  Who  keeps 
me  from  being  conquered  by  the  devil : 
this  is  my  ground  for  assurance,  that  living 
I shall  overcome  thee  and  when  dead  I shall 
triumph  still  more.”  “ At  least  let  your 
children  live.”  “ My  children  live  if  they 
do  not  sacrifice  to  idols  ; but  if  they  commit 
such  a crime,  they  shall  go  to  eternal  death.” 
Thus  ended  this  first  interview  between 
Publius,  a Roman  of  the  old  school,  with  a 
strong  sense  of  justice  as  he  understood  it, 
but  understanding  it  only  as  identified  with 
Roman  law,  and  this  Roman  matron  of  noble 
birth,  who  had  left  the  darkness  for  the 
light. 

Next  day  she  and  her  sons  were  again 
brought  before  the  Prefect.  “ Have  pity 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


111 


on  your  sons,”  said  he,  “ those  fine  young 
fellows  yet  in  the  flower  of  their  youth.” 
Felicitas  replied  : “ Your  pity  is  impious 
and  your  advice  cruel.”  Turning  to 
her  children  she  added  : “ Lift  up  your- 
eyes  to  heaven,  my  children,  look  aloft 
where  Christ  awaits  you  with  His  saints. 
Do  battle  for  your  souls  and  show  your 
selves  faithful  in  the  love  of  Christ.”  At 
this  Publius  ordered  her  to  be  buffeted. 
“ Barest  thou  in  my  presence  counsel  con- 
tempt for  the  Emperor’s  orders  ! ” 

Then  he  called  each  of  the  seven  sons  in 
turn.  He  cajoled  ; he  threatened  ; but  to 
no  avail.  The  first,  Januarius,  replied  : 
“ The  wisdom  of  the  Lord  sustains  me  and 
will  enable  me  to  overcome  all.”  He  was 
beaten  and  sent  back  to  prison,  but  the 
second  was  not  cowed : “We  adore  one 
only  God,”  he  replied,  "to  Whom  we  offer 
the  sacrifice  of  a pious  devotion.  Think  not 
that  you  can  separate  me  or  any  of  my 
brothers  from  the  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Even  under  the  threat  of  blows 
and  your  unjust  designs  our  faith  cannot 
be  conquered  or  changed.”  To  the  third 
son,  Philip,  the  Prefect  said  : “ Our  Lord, 
the  Emperor,  has  ordered  that  you  sacrifice 
to  the  all-powerful  gods.”  The  boy  replied  ; 
“ They  are  neither  gods  nor  all-powerful  but 
worthless,  wretched,  insensible  images,  and 


112  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

those  who  sacrifice  to  them  will  incur  eternal 
risk.”  Silvanus  made  a similar  reply  and 
then  Alexander  was  sent  forward.  Him  the 
judge  tried  to  win  by  kindness  : “ Have  pity 
on  thine  age  and  on  thy  life,  still  in  the 
prime  of  its  youth.  Be  not  obstinate  but 
do  what  most  will  please  our  Sovereign : 
sacrifice  to  the  gods  that  you  may  become 
one  of  the  friends  of  Caesar  and  gain  both 
your  life  and  the  good-will  of  the  Emperors.” 
The  privilege  of  being  “ a friend  of  Caesar  ” 
was  a great  one.  These  amici  Coesaris 
formed  a narrow  circle  round  the  Emperor, 
and  the  honour  was  coveted  even  by  the 
highest  in  Rome.  But  it  was  no  temptation 
to  the  Christian  youth ; he  had  a higher 
title : “ I am  the  servant  of  Christ ; I 

confess  Him  with  my  lips ; I remain 
devoted  to  Him  with  my  heart ; I adore 
Him  unceasingly.  My  years,  so  weak,  as 
you  see,  have  yet  the  prudence  of  old  age 
and  adore  one  only  God.  Thy  gods  and 
their  adorers  shall  perish.”  The  two  re- 
maining children  were  equally  unyielding, 
equally  ardent  in  their  love  for  Christ. 
They  were  all  sent  back  to  prison  and 
Publius  drew  up  a report  of  the  process 
and  sent  it  to  the  Emperor.  What  were 
Marcus’  thoughts  on  reading  it,  if  he  read 
it  at  all. 

Whatever  his  thoughts,  he  ordered  the 


THE  MARTYRS  OP  CHRIST  118 

martyrs  different  tortures  under  various 
officials  in  different  parts  of  the  city.  The 
first  child  died  under  the  lash  shod  with 
lead,  the  second  and  third  under  the  blud- 
geon ; the  fourth  was  hurled  from  a preci- 
pice, while  the  remaining  three  and  Felicitas 
herself  were  mercifully  beheaded.  The 
reason  for  the  severity  and  variety  of  the 
sentences  may  have  been,  as  Allard  sug- 
gests, the  Emperor’s  desire  to  strike  the 
imagination  of  the  people  and  cause  them 
to  believe  that  the  gods  had  had  enough  of 
victims.  He  must  have  abhorred  such 
cruelty,  but  he  was  too  weak  to  resist  the 
clamour  of  the  priests  and  mob  of  Rome  as 
Pilate  had  been  in  presence  of  other  priests 
and  another  mob.  Interpret  his  conduct 
as  we  will,  mere  natural  virtue  and  the 
maxims  of  the  philosophers  show  ill  beside 
the  folly  of  the  Cross.  Children  and  a weak 
woman  put  to  shame  this  paragon  of 
virtues  ; but,  if  they  did  so,  the  glory  was 
not  theirs  but  Christ’s  ; it  was  His  love  that 
nerved  them  to  brave  the  lash,  the  bludgeon 
and  the  axe ; He  Who  bade  them  be  His 
witnesses  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  was  in 
them,  and  suffered  for  them,  because  they 
suffered  for  Him.  It  is  mockery  and 
sophistry  to  think  that  such  strength  could 
come  from  frail  humanity. 

>ii  )(<  >|t  i(<  * f 


9 


114  THE  EMPEKOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

St.  Felicitas  and  her  sons  fell  victims 
to  the  prejudices  of  the  priests  and  the 
mob.  The  martyrdom  of  St.  Justin  and  his 
companions  was  due  to  another  force  that 
was  strongly  to  resist  the  advance  of 
Christianity — namely,  the  opposition  of  the 
philosophers.  The  priests  and  the  mob 
hated  the  Christians  for  the  contempt  with 
which  they  treated  the  State  religion.  The 
philosophers  had  an  additional  motive  for 
hatred  in  their  jealousy  of  the  influence  of 
the  new  teachers.  “You  see  we  profit 
nothing ; the  whole  world  is  gone  after 
Him.” 

St.  Justin,  like  many  of  the  great  Christian 
apologists,  had  come  to  the  Church  through 
the  Greek  schools.  He  had  searched  for 
truth  in  all  the  beaten  paths  of  Greek 
philosophy  and  found  it  not.  “ Nobody 
had  such  faith  in  Socrates  as  to  die  for  his 
doctrines,”  he  tells  us ; and  it  was  the 
eloquence  of  the  martyrs’  sufferings  which 
converted  him.  The  voice  of  Christ  said 
“ Come,”  and  the  heart  of  the  pagan  said 
“ Come,  Lord  Jesus.”  He  became  a Chris- 
tian and  devoted  to  the  cause  of  making 
Christ  known  the  whole  ardour  of  heart  and 
intellect  with  which  he  had  sought  and 
found  Him.  This  Christian  Socrates  would 
walk  in  his  philosopher’s  dress,  which  he 
still  retained,  through  the  public  places  of 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


115 


the  city — the  porches  of  the  temples,  the 
colonnades,  and  porticoes  and  baths,  where 
the  elite  of  Rome  used  to  lounge  each  day 
discussing  the  latest  society  scandal,  the 
news  from  the  provinces,  the  elections  or  the 
games,  and  in  these  places  he  would  converse 
and  dispute  with  all  comers.  He  had  in 
this  way  inflicted  severe  humiliations  on 
many  of  the  pagan  philosophers,  who 
went  about  denouncing  the  Christians,  and 
earned  their  thorough  hatred.  One  espe- 
cially was  bitter  against  him.  This  was 
Crescens,  a Cynic,  whom  Justin  long  ex- 
pected would  denounce  him  and  who  did  so 
at  length. 

Justin  and  six  of  his  disciples  were 
arrested  and  brought  before  the  Prefect  of 
the  City,  Junius  Rusticus,  the  Emperor’s 
most  trusted  and  intimate  friend.  The 
dialogue  between  these  two  men,  both 
trained  in  the  Greek  schools  of  philosophy 
but  now  completely  alienated,  is  typical  of 
the  conflict  between  old  and  new  which 
marks  the  age  of  the  Antonines. 

“ To  begin,”  said  the  Prefect,  “obey  the 
gods  and  do  what  the  Emperors  command.” 
Justin  replied:  “We  cannot  be  accused  or 
blamed  for  obeying  the  precepts  of  Our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.”  “ What  doctrines 
do  you  profess  ? ” “I  have  studied  all 
doctrines  in  turn  and  have  settled  in  that 


116  THE  EMTEROK  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

of  the  Christians,  although  it  is  disliked  by 
the  advocates  of  error.”  “ What  dogma  is 
that  ? ” “ The  doctrine  which  we  Christians 
devotedly  follow,  the  only  true  doctrine,  is 
the  belief  in  one  only  God,  Creator  of  all 
things,  visible  and  invisible,  and  the  con- 
fession of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Son  of  God, 
Whom  also  the  prophets  announced.  Who 
is  to  judge  the  race  of  man,  the  Herald  of 
Salvation,  and  the  Teacher  of  all  those  who 
have  good  will  to  be  taught  by  Him.  And 
I consider  myself,  being  but  man,  incapable 
of  speaking  worthily  of  His  Infinite  Deity. 
That  is  the  work  of  the  prophets.  They  for 
centuries,  inspired  from  on  high,  announced 
the  coming  amongst  men  of  Him  Whom  I 
have  said  is  the  Son  of  God.”  Here  was  a 
revelation  to  the  devotee  of  Epictetus,  one 
of  the  best  of  pagans  ; but  he  paid  no  heed. 
“ Where  do  you  Christians  meet  ? ” he 
asked.  “ The  God  of  the  Christians  is  not 
confined  to  any  place  ; He  fills  Heaven  and 
earth  with  His  invisible  presence  ; in  every 
place  the  faithful  adore  and  praise  Him.” 
“ You  are  then  a Christian  ? ” “ Yes,  I am 
a Christian.”  Turning  to  Justin’s  com- 
panions he  asked  the  same  question  and 
got  the  same  reply.  To  the  slave  Euelpistus, 
he  said  : “ And  you,  what  are  you  ? ” “I 
am  a slave  of  Caesar,  but  also  a Christian, 
and  I have  got  my  freedom  from  Christ ; by 


THE  MAETVRS  OF  CHRIST  117 

His  goodness,  through  His  grace,  I have  one 
hope  with  these.” 

Here  for  the  first  time  was  realised  the 
equality  of  man  in  its  truest  sense.  Rusticus 
might  well  have  recalled  the  words  of  his 
master  Epictetus  : “ The  slave,  hke  you, 
derives  his  origin  from  Jupiter  himself  ; he 
is  his  son  like  you ; he  is  bom  of  the  same 
divine  seed.”  But  he  gave  no  token  of 
sympathy.  The  winged  word  of  Euel- 
pistus  : “ a slave  of  Caesar  but  a freedman 
of  Christ  ” passed  like  an  arrow  through 
his  mind  and  left  not  a trace  of  its 
passage. 

Turning  again  to  Justin  he  said  : “ Listen 
to  me,  you  who  are  called  learned,  and 
think  that  you  have  the  true  doctrine ; if 
I get  you  scourged  and  beheaded,  think  you 
that  you  must  needs  go  up  to  Heaven  ? ” 
“ I hope,”  answered  Justin,  “ to  receive  the 
reward  destined  for  those  who  keep  the 
commandments  of  Christ,  if  I suffer  the 
tortures  you  promise  me.  For  I know  that 
those  who  have  lived  thus  will  keep  the 
Divine  favour  to  the  end  of  the  world.” 
“You  think,  then,  that  you  will  mount  up 
to  Heaven,  there  to  receive  your  reward,” 
said  the  judge  with  a sneer.  “ I do  not 
think  it,  I know  it,  I am  certain  of  it  without 
a doubt.”  This  assurance  of  a future  life 
of  happiness  fell  strangely  on  the  ears  of 


118  THE  EMPEROB  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  Stoic  philosopher.  His  heart  craved  for 
it  but  at  best  he  could  hope  for  immortality 
only,  “ if  it  were  best  for  the  whole  Kosmos 
that  it  should  be  so.”  He  gave  his  final 
command  to  sacrifice  to  the  idols  and  re- 
ceived a final  refusal ; and  all  were  im- 
mediately sent  to  execution. 

Ijc  4c  4e  He  4c  4c 

More  famous  than  either  the  martyrdom 
of  St.  Felicitas  or  of  St.  Justin  was  the  mar- 
tyrdom at  Lyons  of  forty-eight  Christians, 
afterwards  known  as  the  martyrdom  of  the 
Maccabees.  It  is  typical  of  the  persecutions 
in  the  provinces  as  the  others  were  of  those 
in  Rome,  and  fortunately  we  still  possess 
the  beautiful  letter  of  the  churches  of  Lyons 
and  Vienne  to  the  churches  of  Asia  which 
gives  a full  account  of  it.  It  took  place  in 
A.D.  177,  when  Marcus  Aurelius  had  already 
reigned  for  sixteen  years  and  within  three 
years  of  his  death.  He  was  then  grappling 
with  the  barbarians  on  the  Danube  frontier 
and  the  plague  was  working  havoc  in  the 
provinces  as  in  Rome  and  Italy.  Supersti- 
tion broke  out  on  all  sides  with  renewed 
force  and  with  especial  intensity  at  Lyons, 
the  religious  capital  of  the  Three  Gauls. 
The  old  calumnies  against  the  Christians 
were  revived.  They  were  accused  of 
infanticide  and  incest,  of  treachery  to 


THE  MARTYRS  OP  CHRIST 


119 


the  State,  of  secret  conspiracy,  and  of 
contempt  for  the  gods  and  hatred  of  man- 
kind. To  them  was  due  the  anger  of  the 
gods  ; and  by  their  blood  alone  could  it  be 
satiated. 

The  persecution  began  by  a social  ostra- 
cism of  the  Christians  from  all  intercourse 
with  their  fellow-citizens  in  the  baths, 
the  forum  and  the  other  public  places  of  the 
city,  and  even  in  private  houses.  If  they 
violated  this  order  they  were  beaten  and 
stoned  in  the  streets.  So  violent  did  this 
persecution  become  that  the  magistrates 
had  at  last  to  arrest  all  known  to  be  Chris- 
tians and  examine  them  before  the  people. 
All  confessed  to  the  faith  and  were  thrown 
into  prison  to  await  the  arrival  of  the 
Imperial  legate. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival  the  formal  trial 
began.  By  a strange  travesty  of  justice 
the  prisoners  were  first  cruelly  tortured. 
Stirred  by  this  a young  nobleman,  Vettius 
Epagathus,  stood  out  from  the  crowd  and 
demanded  to  be  allowed  to  plead  their 
cause.  He  was  already  a Christian  of 
ascetic  life  and  loved  by  his  brethren  as  “ a 
gracious  disciple  of  Christ  following  the 
Lamb  whithersoever  He  went.”  “ Are 
you  a Christian  ? ” the  legate  asked  him. 
“ I am  a Christian,”  in  his  boldest  tones. 
He  was  immediately  put  amongst  the 


120  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

accused.  “ Behold  the  Christian’s  advo- 
cate,” jeered  the  judge. 

In  this  trial  ten  of  the  accused,  weaker 
and  worse  prepared  than  the  rest,  denied 
Christ.  This  was  a matter  of  far  keener 
anguish  to  the  faithful  than  their  own 
sufferings.  But  the  ranks  thus  broken  were 
soon  filled  up  by  others,  amongst  them 
their  aged  Bishop,  Pothinus.  Meanwhile 
the  slaves  of  Christian  masters  had  been 
arrested,  and  tortured  and  bribed  into 
swearing  to  all  the  current  charges.  Their 
evidence  lashed  the  mob  to  still  greater 
fury.  No  torture  was  now  to  be  spared. 
A second  time  the  Christians  were  placed 
at  the  gentle  mercies  of  the  torturers ; this 
repetition  of  the  torture  in  such  cases  having 
been  legalised  by  Marcus.  But  nothing 
could  break  the  spirit  of  these  warriors ; 
they  rejoiced  to  be  accounted  worthy  to 
suffer  something  for  Him  they  loved.  How 
intense  was  the  nerving  power  of  love  in 
the  souls  of  Sanctus  the  deacon  and  the 
slave-girl  Blandina ! 

Sanctus  when  questioned  again  and  again 
did  but  answer : “ I am  a Christian.” 

Even  when  the  white-hot  plates  of  brass  were 
applied  to  his  body  and  his  flesh  hissed  and 
seared  beneath  them,  in  all  his  agony,  his  one 
relief  was  to  proclaim  again  and  again : “I 
am  a Christian.”  “ Bathed  and  refreshed,” 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


121 


his  brethren  tell  us,  “in  the  heavenly 
well  of  living  water  which  flows  from  the 
breasts  of  Christ,”  every  fresh  torture  was 
to  him  “ a refreshment  and  a remedy  rather 
than  a punishment.” 

But  his  courage  was  as  nothing  to  that 
of  Blandina.  She  was  the  bravest  of  the 
brave  in  the  bravest  of  all  armies — the 
“ witnesses  ” of  Christ.  Her  mistress  and 
her  fellow-Christians  dreaded  lest  from  her 
frail,  sensitive  frame  she  should  give  way, 
as  ten  stronger  had  done  before.  They 
misjudged,  however,  the  power  of  love  ; the 
right  hand  of  the  Lord  wrought  strength  in 
her.  She  had  no  words  of  surrender,  no 
cry  for  mercy.  From  morning  till  evening 
she  wearied  out  several  sets  of  torturers, 
who  retired  baffled  and  amazed  that  she 
still  lived.  “ I am  a Christian  and  we  do 
nothing  wrong,”  was  her  cry  again  and 
again  amidst  her  pains  ; and  fresh  and  fresh 
with  each  repetition  came  new  strength  and 
courage.  Renan  rightly  says  of  her  : “As 
to  the  maid-servant  Blandina,  she  proved 
that  a revolution  had  been  achieved.  The 
true  emancipation  of  the  slave,  emancipa- 
tion by  heroism,  was  in  great  measure  her 
work.  The  pagan  slave  was  supposed  to  be 
essentially  wicked  and  immoral.  What 
better  way  to  rehabilitate  and  free  him  than 
to  show  him  capable  of  the  same  virtues, 


122  THE  EMPEROE  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  same  sacrifices,  as  the  freeman  ? How 
were  these  women  to  be  treated  with  dis- 
dain, who  had  been  seen  acting  with  even 
more  sublime  heroism  than  their  mistresses 
in  the  amphitheatre  ? The  good  Lyonese 
maid-servant  had  heard  it  said  that  the 
judgments  of  God  are  the  overthrow  of 
human  appearances,  and  that  God  is  often 
pleased  to  choose  that  which  is  humblest, 
ugliest,  and  most  despised  to  confound 
that  which  seems  beautiful  and  strong. 
Inspired  by  her  r&le  she  called  for  the  tor- 
ture and  burned  with  eagerness  to  suffer.” 
It  is  the  glory  of  Christianity  to  have  raised 
the  off-scourings  of  mankind  to  such  sub- 
limity. Galen  acknowledged  that  the  con- 
duct of  the  ordinary  Christian  was  as  noble 
as  that  of  the  most  enlightened  of  the 
philosophers.  He  wrote  as  one  who  had 
been  a contemporary  of  Epictetus  and 
physician  to  Marcus  Aurelius  and  intimate 
with  the  best  lives  which  paganism  produced. 
We  who  read  the  lives  of  the  martyrs  whole 
and  appreciate  the  motives  of  their  heroism 
know  that  it  is  an  irreverence  to  compare 
with  their  virtue  the  virtue  even  of  Epictetus 
and  Marcus  Aurelius.  Yet  it  is  well  to  have 
this  testimony  of  an  enlightened  pagan 
contemporary  to  the  elevating  power  of 
Christianity  on  the  masses. 

The  final  execution  was  spread  over 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


128 


several  days.  The  legate  made  the  occasion 
a public  holiday ; and  delegates  from  all 
Gaul,  then  present  at  Lyons  for  adminis- 
trative and  religious  purposes,  witnessed 
the  spectacle. 

Maturus,  Sanctus,  Attains  and  Blandina 
were  chosen  to  provide  the  first  day’s  enter- 
tainment. Their  tortures,  we  are  told, 
saved  the  town  the  expense  of  a gladiatorial 
show.  Christians  were  more  novel  game 
and  cheaper  than  hired  soldiers,  lions  and 
panthers.  Blandina  was  bound  all  but 
naked  to  a pole  at  the  end  of  the  amphi- 
theatre. She  was  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the 
beasts  ; and  the  beasts  proved  more  merciful 
than  the  yelling  savage  mob,  who  crowded 
tier  over  tier  all  around.  That  day  none  of 
them  would  touch  the  frail,  delicate  form 
that,  bound  as  it  was,  recalled  to  the  martyrs 
another  form  bound  too  by  the  Romans  on 
a hill  outside  Jerusalem.  She  was  reserved 
for  another  day,  and  meanwhile  her  forti- 
tude gave  courage  to  all. 

Attalus  was  a Roman  citizen  well  known 
to  the  people.  Hence  they  called  for  his 
torture  as  for  a favourite  actor  or  gladiator. 
He  was  forced  to  walk  round  the  amphi- 
theatre amid  the  jeers  of  the  spectators, 
preceded  by  a placard  with  the  motto 
“ This  is  Attalus,  the  Christian.”  But  the 
rights  of  a Roman  citizen  were  not  to  be 


124  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

outraged  with  impunity  ; and  so  the  legate 
sent  Attains  back  to  prison  without  torture, 
there  to  await  the  Emperor’s  orders. 

No  such  rights  protected  Maturus  and 
Sanctus ; their  bodies  were  already  each  a 
mass  of  wounds  from  their  former  tortures  ; 
and  they  would  be  well  spent  in  making  a 
people’s  holiday.  A file  of  roughs  lashed 
their  naked,  lacerated  bodies  as  they  passed 
into  the  arena.  Their  eyes  fell  on  the 
instruments  of  torture — a gruesome  array — 
along  the  centre ; and  then  the  awful  moment 
came.  A sullen  growl  and  a roar  from  the 
farther  end,  and  already  the  beasts  were 
upon  them.  A thrill  of  mad  excitement 
ran  through  the  throng  above.  The  beasts 
sank  their  teeth  in  the  Christians’  flesh  and 
lapped  the  Christians’  blood,  and  many  a 
pagan  envied  them  the  feast.  But,  sure  of 
their  prey,  they  did  not  devour  them  at 
once ; they  tossed  them  to  and  fro  in  cruel 
sport  and  left  them  for  the  time.  The  mob 
were  impatient ; they  wanted  death ; and 
called  for  the  red-hot  iron  chair.  Into  this 
the  martyrs  were  placed  and  the  foul  smell 
of  the  burnt  flesh  was  incense  to  the  nostrils 
of  the  holiday  makers.  But  the  Christians 
would  not  recant ; the  beasts  would  have 
no  more  of  them ; and  it  was  slow  sport 
watching  this  roasting  process ; so  at  a 
signal  from  the  mob  they  received  the 


THE  MARTYKS  OF  CHRIST 


125 


coup  de  grace,  the  finale  of  all  the  people’s 
pleasures. 

Here  as  ever  persecution  did  but  beget 
fresh  victims.  The  whole  Christian  popula- 
tion was  aflame  with  desire  to  confess 
Christ ; and  even  transgressed  the  wise 
rule  of  the  Church,  which  forbade  them  to 
seek  imprisonment.  But  in  this  moment 
of  spiritual  intensity  discretion  were  out  of 
place  ; who  can  blame  them  for  not  standing 
meekly  by  when  their  brethren  were  writh- 
ing in  torture  and  the  name  of  Christ  was 
being  blasphemed  ? They  can  well  afford 
to  concede  superiority  in  this  always  some- 
what suspicious  virtue  of  discretion  to  their 
arm-chair  critics ; they  will  have  enough 
left  to  secure  for  themselves  Heaven  and 
the  homage  of  mankind.  The  number  of 
the  accused  increased  day  by  day,  especially 
the  number  of  Roman  citizens.  This 
alarmed  the  legate,  and  he  sent  for  instruc- 
tions to  the  Emperor.  After  some  weeks 
the  reply  came  : those  who  recanted  were 
to  be  released,  the  obstinate  were  to  be 
put  to  death  with  torture.  After  all  allow- 
ance has  been  made  for  the  circumstances 
of  the  time  and  his  own  inevitable  ignorance, 
this  act  remains  a dark  stain  on  the  Stoic 
saint. 

The  last  act  of  this  long-drawn  tragedy 
at  last  began.  A final  inquiry  was  held  by 


126  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  legate,  this  time  chiefly  in  order  to  dis- 
criminate the  Roman  citizens  from  the  non- 
citizens. The  latter  were  to  receive  the 
full  measure  of  torture  ; the  former  were  to 
be  beheaded  outright — ^all  except  Attalus, 
who  was  reserved  for  the  arena  as  a 
favour  to  the  mob.  In  this  last  trial  despite 
promises  and  threats  not  one,  even  of  those 
who  had  before  fallen,  wavered.  The 
executions  continued  for  several  days, 
owing  to  the  great  numbers  of  the  martyrs. 
Each  day4from  early  morning  the  pagans 
thronged  the  amphitheatre.  Attalus  and 
Alexander  were  the  next  victims.  They 
went  through  the  whole  gamut  of  pain 
without  a word  or  a groan,  their  souls 
wrapped  in  prayer  the  while.  Finally  they 
were  finished  off  by  the  sword  when  the 
mob  tired  of  them.  Blandina  and  Ponticus 
were  subjected  again  to  yet  fiercer  tor- 
ments, ending  in  death — torments  so 
cruel  that  the  Gauls  said  one  to  another: 
“ Never  in  our  country  has  woman  endured 
so  much.” 

The  whole  proceedings  are  a terrible 
commentary  on  the  rule  of  the  philosopher- 
king  and  Gibbon’s  picture  of  the  Golden 
Age,  “ the  happiest  period  of  the  world’s 
history,  when  the  good  of  the  subject  was 
the  one  object  of  government.”  Much  may 
be  admitted  to  palliate  Marcus’  connivance, 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  CHRIST 


127 


but  assuredly  he  cannot  be  wholly  excused. 
We  can  acquit  him  of  monstrous  brutality  ; 
but  only  at  the  cost  of  attributing  to  him 
narrow  prejudice  or  pusillanimity.  We  can 
save  his  heart,  but  only  at  the  expense  of 
his  intellect  and  will. 

I have  dwelt  on  a few  of  the  many 
martyrdoms  of  his  reign  to  show  the  con- 
duct and  the  ideals  of  Christianity  side  by 
side  with  the  conduct  of  the  pagan  phil- 
osophers. What  reasonable  being  can  read 
aright  the  story  of  this  struggle  and  yet 
prefer  the  cold,  negative,  ineffectual  ideals 
of  Marcus  and  his  friends  to  the  warm 
throbbing  life  of  love  and  the  heroic  death 
of  Ponticus  and  Blandina,  of  Justin  and 
Felicitas  ? Yet,  if  we  are  to  believe  Renan 
and  Arnold,  the  Meditations  of  Marcus  are 
the  force  which  will  transform  the  world 
when,  to  quote  Renan,  the  Gospel  and  the 
Imitation  of  Christ  have  passed  away,  and 
on  the  hillside  of  Lyons  where  the  martyrs 
died  “ a temple  shall  rise  to  the  Supreme 
Amnesty  and  contain  a chapel  for  all  causes, 
all  virtues,  all  martyrs.”  Surely  this  is 
dilettanteism  and  paradox  run  wild,  as 
untrue  to  psychology  as  it  is  to  history  and 
all  sane  and  effective  religion ! 


CHAPTER  X 


THE  PAGAN  X KEMPIS. 

The  Meditations  of  Marcus  Aurelius  have 
often  beeii  compared  with  the  Imitation 
of  Christ.  The  comparison  is  interesting  ; 
and  the  analysis  which  it  involves  of  one 
of  the  noblest  and  purest  of  pagan  ascetics 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  great  exponent 
of  Christian  asceticism  on  the  other,  cannot 
but  strengthen  belief  in  the  divine  origin 
of  Christianity,  Unfortunately,  we  cannot 
attempt  anything  like  a complete  analysis 
of  the  two  books  ; and  we  must  be  content 
to  call  attention  to  a few  points  of  resem- 
blance and  difference  in  the  two  ascetics  ; 
and  estimate  their  respective  values  as 
salves  to  wounded  souls. 

The  appraisers  of  “disinterested”  and 
“ undogmatic  ” morality  have  professed  to 
find  in  the  pagan  book  a surer  guide  to  life. 
They  find  it  more  human,  less  scholastic, 
freer  and  fresher.  Renan  has  voiced  this 
view  with  his  usual  brilliance  and  fickle 
impressionism. 

It  is  true  of  course  that  the  Imitation  of 
Christ  is  built  on  Christian  dogma  and 

128 


THE  PAGAN  X KEMPIS 


129 


steeped  in  Christian  mysticism.  But  this 
is  not  matter  of  discredit  to  the  Imitation 
but  of  glory  to  Christianity.  It  is  because 
the  martyrs  were  strengthened  by  Christian 
dogmas  and  ideals  that  they  alone  surpassed 
Aurelius  in  that  age.  There  is  far  less  of 
rigid  adherence  to  the  letter  of  formulae 
and  infinitely  more  of  spirit,  of  unction,  of 
personal  devotion  in  the  Imitation.  If 
dogma  did  not  hinder  but  rather  inspired 
a book  which  gives  such  freedom  to  the 
spirit,  it  is  time  to  revise  some  of  the  current 
cant  about  the  sterility  of  theology,  its 
fettering  of  the  spirit,  and  the  witty  defini- 
tion of  dogmatism  as  ‘‘  puppyism  grown  big.’" 

Those  who  have  embraced  Christianity 
and  walked  its  peaceful  paths  can  have  no 
doubt  as  to  the  superiority  of  the  Imitation 
in  all  that  is  beautiful,  good  and  true. 
But  even  positivists,  professing  completely 
to  reject  the  supernatural,  find  in  k Kempis 
a unique  charm.  George  Eliot,  the  best  of 
them,  has  told  us  in  inspired  words  what 
the  Imitation  was  to  her : — 

“ I suppose  that  is  the  reason  why  the 
small,  old-fashioned  book,  for  which  you 
need  only  pay  sixpence  at  a bookstall, 
works  miracles  to  this  day,  turning  bitter 
waters  into  sweetness ; while  expensive 
sermons  and  treatises  newly  issued  leave  all 
things  as  they  were  before.  It  was  written 
10 


130  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

down  by  a hand  that  waited  for  the  heart’s 
prompting ; it  is  the  chronicle  of  a solitary 
hidden  anguish,  struggle,  trust  and  triumph 
— ^not  written  on  velvet  cushions  to  teach 
endurance  to  those  who  are  treading  with 
bleeding  feet  on  the  stones.  And  so  it 
remains  at  all  times  a lasting  record  of 
human  needs  and  human  consolations ; the 
voice  of  a brother,  who,  ages  ago,  felt  and 
suffered  and  renounced — in  the  cloister, 
perhaps,  with  serge  gown  and  tonsured 
head,  with  much  chanting  and  long  fasts, 
and  with  a fashion  of  speech  different  from 
ours — but  under  the  same  silent  far-off 
heavens,  and  Avith  the  same  passionate 
desires,  the  same  strivings,  the  same  failures, 
the  same  weariness,” 

This  is  the  opinion  of  one  who  has  de- 
prived the  Imitation  of  its  supernatural 
element.  And  even  from  the  purely  natural 
point  of  view,  what  more  beautiful  than  the 
teachings  of  a Kempis  on  the  true  conduct 
of  life  ? But  this  is  not  its  characteristic 
charm,  and  one  suspects  that  it  is  not  the 
purely  natural  element  in  k Kempis  that 
fascinates  the  positivist  humanitarians ; it 
is  the  supernatural  element ; and  the  attrac- 
tion is  but  the  strong  cry  of  their  spiritual 
nature  revolting  against  the  materialism  to 
which  their  “ positive  ” tenets  lead  ; just 
as  that  same  need  for  a religion  led  the  best 


THE  PAGAN  A KEMPIS 


131 


of  them,  even  at  the  cost  of  inconsistency, 
to  establish  with  much  ritual  and  fantastic 
aberrations  the  cult  of  Humanity. 

But  there  is  no  need  to  settle  the  question 
between  the  two  books  by  authority. 
Were  it  necessary  to  do  so,  one  need  but 
recall  the  multitudes  of  all  classes  and  creeds, 
from  St.  Francis  Xavier  and  St.  Ignatius  to 
Leibnitz  and  Bossuet  and  thence  to  Wesley, 
George  Eliot,  Gladstone,  and  Gordon,  for 
whom  the  Imitation  has  been  a shining 
light  and  a guide  upon  their  path  second 
only  to  the  Sacred  Books  themselves.  To 
join  that  number  one  has  but  to  take  and 
read.  The  points  of  similarity  between  the 
two  books  consist  in  many  maxims  common 
to  both,  such  as  “ that  we  ought  not  to 
regard  the  opinion  of  men  ” ; “ that  we 
ought  to  keep  the  passions  in  restraint  ” ; 
“ that  we  ought  to  despise  pleasures  and 
endure  hardship  with  patience  ” ; “ that 
we  are  not  to  be  too  much  attached  to  life 
and  to  earthly  things  ” ; “ that  we  ought 
to  bear  with  the  faults  of  others  and  return 
good  for  evil.”  This  similarity  is,  however, 
to  a great  extent  merely  verbal.  The  same 
words  do  not  express  the  same  spiritual 
attitude  in  the  two  writers.  It  is  merely 
the  resemblance  which  prevails  between 
all  the  great  ascetical  writers,  from  Seneca 
and  Epictetus  to  St.  Francis,  St.  Ignatius 


182  THE  EMPEEOR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

and  Bunyan,  and  thence  to  modem  writers 
such  as  William  James.  They  all  study  by 
introspection  the  same  human  soul  with  the 
same  natural  faculties  and  tendencies, 
strength  and  weakness,  in  all  its  varying 
moods  of  joy  and  sadness,  perplexity  and 
peace.  Whereas  the  differences  are  measured 
only  by  the  distance  between  the  natural 
and  the  supernatural  and  show  themselves 
in  the  whole  spirit  and  atmosphere,  tone  and 
motive,  of  the  two  books. 

I have  already  hinted  in  passing  at  the 
sympathy  there  is  between  k Kempis  and 
Marcus  Aurelius  in  their  contempt  of  sophis- 
try and  vain  learning.  But  this  similarity 
of  view  does  but  bring  out  all  the  more 
strikingly  the  difference  in  motive  and 
the  manifest  superiority  of  the  Christian. 
Aurelius  was  glad  that  he  had  not  made 
more  proficiency  in  the  rhetorical  and  sophis- 
tical training  of  the  day  ; and  for  the  praise- 
worthy motive  that  thus  he  might  have 
more  leisure  to  attend  to  the  main  work  of 
life — his  own  perfection.  But  how  cold  is 
his  analysis  beside  the  glowing  words  of 
4 Kempis.  The  pagan  seeks  leisure  for  an 
introspection  too  often  morbid  ; the  Chris- 
tian wishes  for  silence  of  the  schools  that 
God  Himself  may  speak  within  him,  and  in 
the  ecstasy  of  this  holy  discipleship  cries 
out : — 


THE  PAGAN  X KEMPIS 


ISS 


“ Happy  is  he  whom  Truth  teacheth  by 
itself,  not  by  figures  and  words  that  pass, 
but  as  it  is  in  itself.  . . . It  is  a great  folly 
for  us  to  neglect  things  profitable  and 
necessary  and  willingly  to  busy  ourselves 
about  those  which  are  curious  and  hurtful. 
. . . He  to  whom  the  Eternal  Word 

speaketh  is  set  at  liberty  from  a multitude 
of  opinions.  ...  0 Truth,  my  God, 

make  me  one  with  Thee  in  everlasting  love. 
I am  wearied  with  often  reading  and  hearing 
many  things ; in  Thee  is  all  that  I will  or 
desire.  Let  all  teachers  hold  their  peace ; 
let  all  creatures  be  silent  in  Thy  sight ; 
speak  Thou  alone  to  me.” 

In  passing,  we  may  compare  this  prayer 
and  the  whole  mystic  rapture  and  personal 
heart-cries  of  the  Imitation  with  Aurelius’ 
idea  of  a perfect  prayer : “A  prayer  of  the 
Athenians : Rain,  rain,  O dear  Zeus,  down 
on  the  ploughed  fields  of  the  Athenians  and 
on  the  plains.  In  truth  we  ought  not  to 
pray  at  all  or  we  ought  to  pray  in  this  simple 
and  noble  fashion.”  This  simplicity  was  a 
great  advance  on  the  hypocrisy  and  verbiage 
which  often  marked  Roman  prayers  and 
provided  matter  for  satire  to  Horace  and 
Juvenal ; but,  after  all,  it  does  not  present 
us  with  any  very  lofty  ideal.  So,  too,  when 
he  speaks  of  the  objects  which  we  ought 
to  pray  for  : “ Why  dost  thou  not  ask  that 
10* 


184  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  gods  may  give  thee  the  faculty  of  not 
fearing  any  of  the  things  thou  fearest,  or 
of  not  desiring  any  of  the  things  thou 
desirest,  or  not  being  pained  at  anything 
rather  than  pray  that  any  of  these  things 
should  not  happen  or  happen  ? One  man 
prays  thus : How  shall  I not  lose  my  little 
son  ? Do  thou  pray  thus  : How  shall  I not 
be  afraid  to  lose  him.  In  fine,  turn  thy 
prayers  this  way,  and  see  what  comes.” 
All  this  does  Aurelius  credit,  but  it  is  far 
from  the  outpouring  of  the  soul  to  God, 
which  is  the  essence  of  the  Christian  book. 

Both  books  teach  that  peace  must  come 
through  strife — strife  without  and  strife 
within.  The  Stoic  like  the  Christian 
teaehes  that  life  is  a warfare ; that  safety 
lies  in  continual  vigilance  ; in  restraint  over 
our  lower  nature ; in  retirement  and  self- 
examination  ; in  regarding  all  the  things 
of  time  as  of  no  account  in  themselves. 
‘‘  Look  within,”  says  Aurelius,  “ within  is 
the  fountain  of  good,  and  it  will  ever  bubble 
up,  if  thou  wilt  ever  dig  ” ; ” the  mind 
maintains  its  own  tranquillity  by  retiring 
into  itself  ” ; “ retire  into  thyself.  The 
rational  principle  which  rules  has  this 
nature,  that  it  is  content  with  itself  when  it 
does  what  is  just  and  so  secures  tran- 
quillity ” ; “ the  mind  which  is  free  from 
passions  is  a citadel,  for  man  has  nothing 


THE  PAGAN  A KEMPIS 


135 


more  secure  to  which  he  can  fly  for  refuge 
and  for  the  future  be  inexpugnable.”  A 
Kenxpis  also  bids  us  “ seek  a proper  time 
to  retire  into  thyself  ” but  this  retirement 
is  not  into  solitude  ; it  is  to  the  most  sublime 
communion  : “ Shut  the  door  upon  thyself 
and  call  to  thee  Jesus  thy  beloved.  Stay 
with  Him  in  thy  cell,  for  thou  shalt  not  find 
so  great  peace  anywhere  else  ” ; for  “ who- 
soever aims  at  arriving  at  internal  and 
spiritual  things  must  with  Jesus  go  aside 
from  the  crowd  ” ; “in  silence  and  quiet 
the  devout  soul  goes  forward  and  learns  the 
secrets  of  the  Scriptures”;  “for  God,  with 
His  holy  angels,  will  draw  nigh  to  Him  who 
withdraws  himself  from  his  acquaintances 
and  friends.” 

The  ideal  of  A Kempis  is  by  subjection  of 
the  passions  to  reach  the  interior  freedom 
which  begets  all  the  Christian  virtues  until 
these  in  turn  are  concentrated  into  one 
strong  glow  of  love  by  which  the  lover  is 
united  to  his  Beloved,  heart  to  heart,  and 
soul  to  soul.  It  is  this  love  which  makes 
his  short  sentences  quiver  and  glow  and 
pierce,  especially  in  the  beautiful  chapter 
on  the  effects  of  Divine  love,  where  he  prays 
that  he  may  cast  off  the  human  and  put  on 
God 

“ Free  me  from  evil  passions  and  heal  my 
mind  of  all  disorderly  affections,  that  being 


186  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

healed  and  well  purified  in  my  interior  I 
may  become  fit  to  love,  courageous  to  suffer, 
and  constant  to  persevere.  Love  is  an 
excellent  thing,  a great  good  indeed,  which 
alone  maketh  light  all  that  is  burthensome 
and  beareth  with  even  mind  all  that  is 
unequal.  . . . The  love  of  Jesus  is  noble 
and  it  spurreth  us  on  to  do  great  things  and 
exciteth  us  to  desire  always  that  which  is 
most  perfect.  . . . Nothing  is  sweeter 

than  love,  nothing  stronger,  nothing  higher, 
nothing  broader,  nothing  more  pleasant, 
nothing  more  generous,  nothing  fuller,  or 
better  in  heaven  or  earth ; for  love  is  from 
God  and  cannot  rise  but  in  God,  above  all 
things  created.” 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the 
Stoic  had  no  such  ideal  as  this ; for  it  is 
essentially  a Christian  ideal. 

A Kempis  soars  on  the  wings  of  love 
through  the  spirit  world  at  home  amongst 
the  angels  ; while  the  Stoic  trudges  drearily 
along  the  hard,  bleak  road  of  logic ; and  once 
more  logic  is  convicted  of  futility  as  a 
complete  guide  to  life.  Follow  reason,  said 
the  Stoic : reason  tells  you  that  you  can 
guide  your  own  destinies  and  mould  your 
own  inner  life : rely  on  yourself,  since 
you  can  rely  on  nobody  else : be  self- 
sufficient.  This  self-sufficiency  was  the 
parent  of  hardness  and  at  times  of  an  un- 


THE  PAGAN  1 KEMPIS 


13T 


lovely  spiritual  pride.  Aurelius  seems  to 
thank  God  that  he  is  not  as  the  rest  of  men  ; 
he  is  better  than  the  pharisee  only  in  that 
he  pities  the  publican  and  acknowledges 
that  he  himself  has  that  within  him  which 
could  lead  him  to  lower  depths  did  he  cease 
to  follow  the  Stoic  ascesis  ; but  his  pity  has 
frequently  something  of  spiritual  disdain 
and  contempt  in  it.  Yet  he  is  not  wholly 
proud ; there  is  in  him  a certain  modesty 
and  self-suppression  which  often  in  its 
expression  reminds  us  of  sayings  of  a 
Kempis ; but  he  never  learnt  to  think : 
“ We  are  all  frail ; but  do  thou  think  no 
one  more  frail  than  thyself.”  “ If  thou 
wouldst  know  and  learn  anything  useful,  love 
to  be  unknown  and  esteemed  as  nothing; 
this  is  the  highest  and  most  profitable 
lesson,  truly  to  know  and  despise  oneself  ” ; 
or  with  St.  Paul  “ who  is  weak  and  I am 
not  weak.”  But  we  should  not  expect 
unaided  I’eason  to  reach  these  heights.  A 
Kempis  himself  tells  us  that  light  comes  to 
the  soul  only  when  reason  is  transcended  by 
faith  and  love : “ If  thou  reliest  more  upon 
thine  own  reason  or  industry  than  upon  the 
virtue  that  subjects  to  Jesus  Christ,  thou 
wilt  seldom  and  hardly  be  an  enlightened 
man  ; for  God  will  have  us  perfectly  subject 
to  Himself,  and  to  transcend  all  reason  by 
ardent  love.”  “ Reason  transcended  by 


138  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

ardent  love  ” : in  this  is  expressed  the  whole 
relation  between  Christianity  and  all 
systems  that  rely  on  reason  alone.  The 
soul  itself  in  all  its  aspirations  is,  as  Ter- 
tullian  said,  naturally  Christian,  and  it  is 
only  by  a Procrustean  torture  that  it  can 
be  forced  into  any  other  system. 

The  inadequacy  of  Aurelius’  teaching 
is  brought  out  most  clearly  in  the  shallow 
optimism  with  which  he  tries  to  conjure 
away  all  the  sufferings  of  life.  Nothing  can 
be  more  unreal  than  his  attitude  towards 
evil.  We  turn  to  a Kempis  and  at  once  we 
are  struck  by  the  contrast.  Suffering  and 
evil  are  for  a Kempis  an  intense  reality. 
He  does  not  attempt  to  waive  them  away 
with  the  magic  formula  “ Never  mind.” 
No ; it  is  because  they  are  realities,  often 
terrible  realities,  that  they  are  the  most 
precious  things  in  life  with  the  power  to 
transmute  the  human  into  the  Divine.  He 
recognises  that  no  ordinary  motive  can 
reconcile  frail  humanity  to  the  trials  of  life ; 
that  many  are  ready  to  follow  Jesus  to  the 
breaking  of  bread  but  few  to  the  drinking 
of  the  chalice  of  His  passion  ; that  only  an 
ardent  personal  love  and  loyalty  to  Christ 
can  induce  men  to  take  up  their  cross  and 
follow  Him,  Who  has  gone  before  bearing 
His  cross.  When  suffering  is  borne  in  this 
spirit  it  loses  the  unreasonableness  which 


THE  PAGAN  A KEMPIS 


139 


besets  all  other  explanations  of  it.  It  be- 
comes the  greatest  of  blessings ; it  makes 
us  indeed  like  unto  God. 

How  ineffectual  beside  this  spirit  of 
suffering  for  love  are  the  cold  formularies 
with  which,  as  by  magic  spells,  the  Stoic 
would  benumb  human  pain.  Take  for 
instance  the  much-quoted  passage  from 
the  end  of  the  second  book  : “ Of  human 
life  the  duration  is  a point ; the  substance 
is  fleeting ; the  perception  is  dull ; and  the 
fabric  of  the  whole  body  subject  to  rotten- 
ness ; the  soul  is  an  idle  whirling  and  fortune 
hard  to  divine,  and  fame  a thing  devoid  of 
judgment.  In  short,  all  that  there  is  of  the 
body  is  a stream  and  all  that  there  is  of  the 
soul  a dream  and  a vapour.  Life  is  a warfare 
and  a sojourning  in  a strange  country,  and 
after-fame  is  oblivion.  What  then  is  that 
which  can  conduct  a man  ? One  thing, 
and  only  one,  philosophy.”  But  he  himself 
found,  as  many  have  found,  that  sorrow  is 
not  banished  nor  the  riddle  of  life  solved 
by  philosophy. 

Thus  we  see  the  spirit  of  these  two  teachers 
of  men.  Further  comparison  would  but 
illustrate  more  clearly  that  the  Christian 
book,  because  it  is  in  a sense  divine,  is 
intensely  human,  adequate  to  fulfil  all  that 
is  best  in  man ; while  the  pagan  book, 
because  it  is  merely  human,  does  not  satisfy 


140  THE  EMPEROR  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

the  human  soul,  which  always  seeks  for 
something  better  than  itself.  The  one  is 
centred  in  God  and  draws  its  inspiration 
from  the  inspired  books  themselves,  con- 
centrating all  its  efforts  on  the  reproduc- 
tion of  Christ  in  the  Christian.  The  other, 
though  it  bids  us  to  “ love  man  and  follow 
God,”  means  something  quite  different  by 
this  love  of  man  and  this  following  of  what- 
ever its  author  understood  by  “ God.” 
For  it  is  essentially  centred  in  man,  in  self ; 
and  has  no  inspiration  but  the  gropings  of 
the  unaided  intellect.  Nor  can  it  propose 
to  us  any  higher  model  for  our  imitation 
than  the  blind  subjection  to  law  which 
prevails  in  the  inaninjvte  and  organic 
universe  ; the  stones,  a fig-tree,  or  the  brutes. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  spirit  of  the  Medita- 
tions there  is  something  akin  to  the  sayings 
of  d Kempis ; but  the  Christian  time  and 
again  feels  in  the  pagan  book  the  sense  of 
void,  the  vain  strivings  after  ideals — ideals 
fully  realised  and  expressed  by  the  lowly 
brother  of  the  Common  Life.  The  humblest 
Christian  has  as  his  birthright  truths  which 
were  the  fruit  of  years  of  training  and  much 
struggle  in  the  noble  pagan  soul ; and  he 
has  more. 


THE  END. 


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CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 

Books  may  be  kept  for  two  weeks  and  may  be 
renewed  for  the  same  period,  unless  reserved. 

Two  cents  a day  is  charged  for  each  book  kept 
overtime. 

If  you  cannot  find  what  you  want,  ask  the 
Librarian  who  will  be  glad  to  help  you. 

The  borrower  is  responsible  for  books  drawn 
on  his  card  and  for  all  fines  accruing  on  the 


same. 


